


good luck

by lorene



Series: four pm [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Instability, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:29:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9177040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorene/pseuds/lorene
Summary: The alarm clock on Adam’s dresser read 2:48. Taylor thought he already made the decision not to tell anyone about Beau’s illness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> its best to read four pm before reading this because there are little references from that fic in this one. but i guess you dont have to.
> 
> im tagging as cheating although it's talked about alot, the actual cheating is very minimum, like very, very little so just a warning.

_Good luck._

 

Two words thrown together to simply wish good fortune on someone.

 

“ _Good luck_ ,” with that job interview tomorrow.

“ _Good luck_ ,” with finding a parking spot this time of day.

“ _Good luck_ ,” with the rest of your life.

 

The last one feels like it was supposed sting the most. Not in a painful way but in a blatant way. That was hard to ignore. Taylor’s only heard that phrase directed at him a few times in his life. Sometimes in a nonchalant way, mostly in a sarcastic way, all too infrequently in a genuine way.

“This is for the best. I’m sorry again, Taylor. Good luck.”

That one was the nonchalant way. It was airy, hollow and said in a way that was only meant to be polite and nothing else.

Taylor stared back at the blank face of his boss, wondering if this guy really knew just how much he was fucking his day up. He wasn't just some twenty five year old kid who was still living at home with his parents- still trying to figure out what to do with his life.

There were bills that have been piling up for months now and he could never seem to catch up, another person at home to take care of. Being unemployed was not an option, he _needed_ this job just to barely get by.

But his boss didn't know that, and Taylor wasn't going to tell him. Instead he walked out of the store with a tight lipped expression and ignored the curious looks of his now former employees, got into his car and drove home.

Taylor wasn't upset because he got fired from a job he already hated. He was upset because although they were receiving disability checks now, it wasn't very much and without an actual income, things were going to be even more tight than they already were. He was upset because he has to hold off on small things so simple and cheap as _curtains_ because he wasn't even sure if there was enough food at home to last them for at least the next two weeks.

Upset because he didn't know what the fuck he was going to do.

He drove home fast, and quite honestly a little careless. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, he shut the car off and sat there with his hands in his lap. So far being unemployed was pretty shitty.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a minute before he pressed it unintentionally. Placing it on speaker, he let it ring for a few seconds just to see if the call would be picked up. “Hello?”

Taylor swallowed thickly. The dire feeling in the pit of his stomach settling. “Hi mom.”

There was a pleasant sound on the other line. He really didn't call her enough. “Hi sweetie, how’s your day going?”

A wave of heavy hearted sadness crashed over him, and he felt it all over his entire body. From the migraine hiding behind his right eye socket all the way down to the aching hurt of his feet. “Mom,” he says and his voice sounds watery.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He missed her, hasn't seen her in a few months. They only lived three hours away but it seemed like he could never find the time to go up and see his parents. There was too much going on all the time. Taylor fought the urge to cover his face, there was no one to see him right now. “I lost my job today.”

Silence. Then, a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, Taylor. Please tell me you have a backup plan?”

 _No_. “Yeah, we’ll be okay. I’ll find another job, I- I just didn't see it coming.”

“I’m sorry that happened, honey. Do you need anything?” _Yes._

“No. Just are you and dad busy this weekend? Can I come visit you guys?” All he wanted right now was to be sitting in front of the fireplace in his childhood home, breathing in the familiar warm smell of cinnamon and redwood swirling around him as he pulled the fuzzy, old throw blanket they’ve had ever since he was born over his shoulders and try to... _forget_.

“Of course, you’re always welcome to come over. You know that.” she said. And Taylor knew but- “It’s okay if Beau comes, right?” The pause on the other line told him enough. Still, she wouldn't say no. She wouldn't ever actually tell him that she would prefer her son’s Schizophrenic boyfriend stay home. Because she knew he couldn't. She knew _Taylor couldn't._

“ _Of course_.” It came out exactly the way it always did, with false sincerity but she was trying and that’s all he can ask.

Once he’s off the phone, he feels drained. Taylor sits there for a while because he feels like he should have more anger in him, but all that's mustering up is exhaustion. When he happens to glance up at the front window of the living room, the sheet curtain closes swiftly. It took more effort than it usually did to carry himself up the porch steps. There were several cigarette butts stomped over on the top step that he should probably pick up. He doesn't.

Beau was already standing in the entryway, when he opens the door. His silhouette blocking the view of the living room.

“You’re home early.” Beau said but it came out accusingly. Without a word, Taylor put his hand on the front of his shoulder, urging him to move out of the way.

He looked around. The house was a mess. There were clothes slung over the couch, an old snowman Christmas decoration he thought he got rid of a long time ago, knocked over carelessly. A couple of empty water bottles with the paper torn off and various food wrappers all piled up on the coffee table. Along with stuff that was normally in drawers like important papers and various batteries, old books and a tattered photo album that he hasn't seen in a while, scattered all over the living room.

He kicked the door shut behind him and it made a loud noise. Beau wasn't making eye contact, but chewing on his bottom lip, turning the skin redder than usual. “What the hell happened in here?” Taylor asked. Beau didn't answer.

“ _Beau_ ,” he repeated.

“Oh…well, it’s cause…” Beau trailed off, still looking down at where his hands were messing with the hem of his shirt.

Taylor stepped over a pair of on his own boxer shorts, it looked like they were used to wipe something up. “What the hell did you do all this for?”

Beau was wringing his hands now, with a pleading look on his face. “I thought you would be home later! I thought y-you would later, be home late. I didn't!” he shouted. That really didn't answer Taylor’s question. Even if he was home later, it's not like Beau would have cleaned all this up anyways.

He checked the kitchen, to make sure there wasn't like a small fire or something. There was only another spill of what looked like orange juice on the counter and a ball of paper towels stuffed in the sink. _What the fuck was he doing?_

Beau wasn't allowed to use the stove or oven while he was gone and for the most part, Beau didn't care to mess with the appliances. Still, Taylor got nervous sometimes. Beau was unpredictable and this was the perfect example of it.

He followed Taylor around the house aimlessly, mirroring every move and glance he made over his shoulder until Taylor got to the bedroom.

Everything was still in it’s place here so, one less room to clean up.

Taylor sat down on the bed, mechanically slipping his shoes off. Something caught his eye on the nightstand that wasn't there before. It was a single photo of the two of them, perched up against the small desk lamp and it was a little frayed at the edges.

He recognised the picture immediately, could easily go back to that very moment when they were teenagers. It was taken a couple of years after they first met, not yet dating. They were standing on a fishing dock, the sun all too bright in their eyes and hair wet and sticking up because they’d just gone swimming. Beau was squinting one eye shut, with an arm around his shoulders and Taylor had an easy grin on his face as he looked straight into the camera.

Back when they were really just actual kids without a care or problem in the world.

Not paying attention, Beau was bent down on his knees scratching at a scuff on one of Taylor’s shoes. Taylor tapped his thigh with his foot, nodding to the picture. “Where did you find that?”

“I was tryin’ to look for it. That's why I thought you would be home later, that's what I was looking for.” Beau answered. He hopped up on the bed, gaze still focused on Taylor’s shoe.

Taylor had no idea they even still had that picture laying around, let alone that Beau even remembered it. “How did you...like, did you have another dream or?”  

Beau leaned against his side, and he gave a few distracted _‘um’s’_ before remembering he was being asked a question.

“No, I just thought you would be home later. Do you see, it's us?” Finally breaking his focus from the shoe, Beau made eye contact with him for the first time since he’s walked through the door.

Beau must be really out of it today because still, that wasn't really answering Taylor’s question. But he’ll take it. “Well…that was sweet of you, I wasn't expecting that.”

Beau just shrugs, “I’m sorry for making a mess, please don't be upset with me. You're not mad, are you?”

Taylor looked down at him, at the top of his head. That was Beau’s favorite question to ask. What Taylor hated about that particular question, was that he could never answer _yes_. Beau was too sensitive for that, he wouldn't be able to handle knowing that the only person he really had was upset, disappointed, irritated with him.  

“No.” Taylor says even though he was pissed, Beau never did things like that. Most days, he didn't have enough energy to even venture anywhere in the house except for their bedroom and out on the porch to smoke. He guessed the picture on the nightstand took some of the steam out of the fact that he basically trashed their house.

He could tell or not tell Beau what happened today. Either way, Taylor is basically going to have to spend the rest of the day cleaning. “I um, I don't have a job anymore.”

Beau didn't say anything and maybe he didn't know what exactly Taylor meant. Sometimes it took a while for things to sink in properly, longer than it would for most people. “...Like I got fired. That’s why I’m home so early.”

“Oh.” Beau says. It sounds unsure, like he didn't get it. That wasn't his fault though, Taylor had to remember that, even though anxiousness was pumping through his veins right now. “That means...you can stay home with me all the time now. That's what I always want, it's okay Taylor.”

Taylor let his eyes wander over to the picture again and he stared at it for a couple seconds. “I don't have to be scared now. I won't have to make a mess now.” Beau repeated. He thought about telling Beau about how they might not even make rent this month but decided against it because it wasn't fair to cause Beau anymore stress or worry in his reality.

Instead he thought about why there were so many empty water bottles in the living room and what Beau could have wasted them on. “Yeah.”

\---

It felt good to get out of the house after spending the last few days cooped up. All Taylor had been doing lately was feeling sorry for himself and listening to Beau talk about how if he had it his way, they would never leave the house, Taylor would never leave his side- _not even for a second_.

Obviously that wasn't realistic, they would have to get fresh air at some point. When he told Beau that, it actually made him laugh, which _felt_ like a breath of fresh air for them.

It was okay though, because Beau wasn't having a bad week. It really could have been worse. For the most part, they've been just watching TV all day, and when that got boring, Taylor would make Beau something to eat and watch him draw while he drank the absolute last of their coffee.

“Are you sure they said I can come?”

Taylor scoffed a little, “Of course you can come, Beau. We’ve been together for _eight years_ , I don't have to ask my parents if I can bring you when I visit them.”

He really shouldn't have to ask, _he really shouldn't._ Beau didn't have a clue that he did. And that's how it would stay, Beau was already paranoid and self conscious enough around them.

Beau was fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket he had scrunched up in his lap. There were three pillows sitting on top of his feet because their backseat was stuffed with everything they would need for their extended weekend.

Taylor was extremely both relieved and glad that his parents would be going out of town on Monday. His mom had asked if they wanted to stay up there for a few extra days and house sit. It was amazing how she already knew that a change of scenery would do both of both some good.

Maybe he can pretend that he and Beau live there while they’re gone. In that light grey two story house on Pine St. where he grew up. He can pretend that he and Beau lived in that clean, respectable neighbourhood with the bright green fake lawn and beds of healthy lilies that always bloomed so beautifully in the springtime.

“Where’s a lighter?” Beau asked with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He was already rolling the window down and startled visibly when a leaf blew in randomly. Today was a very windy day.

Taylor watched him pick it up with two fingers and held it up to the window for the wind to snatch back up.

“I don't want you smoking in here,” he says and waited for Beau to make that whining sound in the back of his throat. “Because you’re going to make the blankets smell and I just washed them.”

Beau clutched the fabric tighter in his hands, “It’s okay though, they won't smell. What if...I be really careful? Please, Taylor. Please, I need one.”

“You’re gonna have to wait. I don't want to hear my mom complain about how you reek either.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Beau’s leg bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. They’ve only been driving for twenty minutes and he was already getting antsy.

“But you let me do it last time-”

Taylor cleared his throat loudly, interrupting him, “Last time you were having an episode and needed to calm down, you're completely fine right now Beau. Come on, don't do this now.”

It seems, this week had been _too easy_ because the indent on the space between his brows was deep and unrelenting. Beau banged his head against at the headrest and turned his head away from Taylor. “If I don't, my throat feels tight…” Beau complained, “I really need to, _please_. I said I would be careful, I need to…”

“ _No._ Relax.” Taylor tells him, firmly. Putting his foot down is a successful way to end Beau's relentless whining. Though it felt like it wouldn't do any good today because Beau groaned again, this time with an edge of desperation. “ _Please_.” he repeated.

Taylor kept his eyes on the road. He could tell Beau was getting anxiety, probably more from the thought of being trapped in the car for three hours more than anything.

“Taylor,” Beau tried again. His voice broke off towards the end, and he dropped his head in his hands. The cigarette he was holding, now somewhere on the floor mat. “You’re being mean to me.”

They were on a busy highway now so it's not like Taylor could just pull over right this second. Part of him wanted to make Beau tough it out, because three hours wasn't that long and he's acting like they've never done this before. Taylor finally glanced over at him. Beau was now crying, weak tears spilling over onto his cheeks and he pointedly reached down for the cigarette, smashing it against the cup holder so it broke in half, leafs of tobacco spilling everywhere.

Beau knew he was overreacting, he did that often. Taylor took a deep breath, and reached over to pat Beau’s thigh only for him to flinch away angrily.

“ _Jesus_ , fucking calm down, okay?” Taylor demanded.

“Don't say _that!”_ Beau yelled back. He had a new fear of religious names, Taylor wasn't sure where it came from but apparently it wasn't uncommon with Schizophrenics. It freaked Beau out a lot.

They didn't speak the rest of the way and it wasn't until they were about ten minutes away from his parents house that Taylor pulled over into a gas station parking lot.

He didn't anything when he lifted his hips to reach in his pocket and toss his lighter onto Beau’s lap. Beau didn't say anything when he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car with still-pink stained cheeks.

Taylor watched Beau sit on the hood of the car, taking his time as he smoked his cigarette down to a stub. And Taylor really didn't feel all that bad for making him wait. He wasn't sure if that was shitty of him or not. But he never got his way all the time, so why should Beau?

Beau disappeared into the convenience store, presumably to use the restroom. Taylor waited.

Minutes later, Beau came back out, knocking on Taylor’s window so he could roll it down. “What.” Taylor said.

“They have Oreos.” Was all Beau said, expectedly. Taylor handed him a crumpled up ten dollar bill that was in the glovebox. It was really only there for emergencies but whatever. He didn't feel like dealing with another tantrum today.

When he got back in the car, Beau angled the seat back as far as it would go and pulled the blanket completely over his head.

\---

Taylor’s mom made lasagna for dinner. It was cheesy and filling, just like he remembered. She rambled on about various topics while his dad read the newspaper and grunted every now and then.

The fireplace was keeping the house warm and this is what Taylor missed.

The familiarity of it made him think of the very first time Beau met his parents. At the time, they had no idea that he and Beau were dating, let alone that their only son and child was into _boys._ His mom had made lasagna that night too and after dinner, she sent them off up to his room with two mugs of hot apple cider.

It was kind of a thrill. Being seventeen, and trying not get caught while they made out on his bed. They kissed sloppily, a little tentatively because it was all new to them still. He wondered if Beau remembered that.

“I'm done. I'm full, here.” Beau blurted out, pushing his plate away until it banged into Taylor's. His mom was probably cringing at the sound of her expensive tableware being knocked around.

He was sitting with one leg clutched up to his chest so that he could rest his head on his bony kneecap. He was wearing the same army green long sleeve that he refused to take off all week, there was a dark ink stain near the elbow, from when Beau fell asleep with his arm perched on top of his sketchbook.

Taylor didn't think he was mad at him anymore.

“Are you sure you don't want any more, dear? You didn't eat much. Do you think he wants any salad, Taylor?” his mom asked, getting up to get the salad bowl from the fridge.

Beau shook his head, silent. He continued pushing his plate further until Taylor grabbed it, putting it under his own plate. “No, he's done.”

“Missing your appetite there, Beau?” his dad asked, folding the newspaper in half.

Beau shook his head again, putting both of his hands over his mouth and Taylor sighed. “Just a lot of cookies on the way here.”

After dinner, his parents retired to bed early. Taylor offered to do the dishes and tidy up. He found it was a lot more tolerable to clean up after someone else when it wasn't in his own house. When he finished, he wandered around to where Beau was curled up on the couch.

Beau was staring at a spot on the floor by the fireplace. The glow from the dimming fire shadowed across his face. “You okay?” Taylor put his hand on his shoulder blade, pressing down just to feel. “Are you still upset with me?”

Beau curled his legs up higher, exhaling through his nose. “Um...um, no.”

“Alright, come on.” Taylor patted his hip and stood up, waiting for Beau to tear his gaze away from the floor and follow him upstairs.

Once they were settled in bed, Beau curled an arm over Taylor’s waist. His fingers skittered up his t-shirt, rubbing at his bare ribs. “Do you ever get scared when you go up stairs? Cause...what if you can't get back down?”

The lights in his old bedroom were way too fluorescent to leave on all night. After some pleading on Taylor’s part, they agreed to leave the bathroom light on with the door open so it would shine into their room.

It was bright enough to see around the room and to make out Beau's worried expression next to him but dim enough that Taylor could fall asleep comfortably. Quickly, Taylor sat up so he could chuck his shirt off, throwing it at the end of the bed and laid back down. It would probably get hot tonight with the multiple blankets they had, plus his parents liked to leave the heaters on all night.

Beau was staring at him, on his side and with an arm folded under his head.

Taylor turned his head so that his cheek was resting on the pillow. He reached over to smooth out the frown crease that Beau seemed to wear constantly. “Why wouldn't I be able to get back down?”

Beau took ahold of his wrist, his thumb tracing over the lone blue vein that stuck out. “Well because what if it disappears? Wouldn't you be scared?”

“The staircase can't disappear out of thin air though, it's impossible.”

His eyes widened a little desperately and Taylor wasn't sure what he was _supposed_ to say. “But if it happened, wouldn't you be scared? I would, that's why I don't like stairs. It's too much of a hazard to deal with...and if a tornado comes and wipes it all away, wouldn't you be scared? I would be scared that's why I don't like stairs.” Beau told him.

Taylor’s eyes skimmed over his face, and eventually nodded. “Yeah, I guess I would be scared too.”

That seemed to make Beau relax a bit, to be agreeing with him. He pressed himself even closer to Taylor's side and rested his head on his chest. Taylor kissed his shoulder. The exhaust he hasn't been able to shake off wore thin in his bones so he finally shut his eyes, ready to finally go to sleep.

It was quiet for a long time, and it startled Taylor a little when Beau whispered right into his ear, his breath coming out hot and tickling. “ _Taylor…_ ”

Waiting for him to continue, Taylor squeezed his shoulder, “Hmm?”

Beau let out a sigh and Taylor felt the movement when he scrubbed harshly at his eyes. “I was mad at you.”

“I know,” Taylor said and asks again, “Are you still?”

Sometimes it took a bit of prodding to get Beau to talk about stuff but Taylor gets it. Neither of them talked about their feelings too much, for different reasons. That's just how it was and how it's been since the diagnosis.

Another sigh. Beau lifted his head up so he could look at him. His eyes were shiny but he wore a flat expression. “I'm not mad at you anymore um...I don't like being mean to you.”

The blankets fell off them when Beau sat up on his knees, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “But I don't like it when you’re mean to me either.”

Taylor sat up on his elbows. “Beau…” He sat up again so he could cup Beau’s cheek, thumbing along the space under his eye. He could feel the saliva in his mouth turn salty, like he was going to start tearing up himself. “I wasn't trying to be mean today, I-”

“All the time, Taylor. Not- I don't like it when you’re mad at me. I...I want to die if you're mad at me, I don't like it.”

“Beau-” Taylor said again, stern this time because tears were sliding down his face harder now.

“I’m not _trying_ to make you feel like that.” _Fuck,_ he could feel the hot sting in his own eyes now. He wasn't sure why he felt so emotional all of a sudden. Maybe because Beau had been super emotional all day and it was rubbing off on him. “I’m sorry if I make you feel like...I’m sorry. You have to understand that it's hard on _me_ too, I’m stressed out all the time.”

Beau was the one to swipe at his eyes now, “Don't cry.” Their roles reversed because Taylor shook his head stubbornly, “Not.”

“Please, it's okay. I shouldn't have brought it up. Taylor, please.” Beau pleaded worriedly. He seemed to have calm down himself, and was focused completely on Taylor.

Maybe it was because Beau rarely ever saw Taylor upset, rarely ever saw him cry. So when he did, Beau didn't know what to do.

He didn't know how to take care of Taylor because he was always the one being taken care of.

\---

The next morning, Taylor woke up to Beau talking to himself.

He wasn't talking loudly enough to disrupt his sleep, though he was talking a mile a minute. Taylor slung his arm over his waist, pulling Beau back against him.

“Did you sleep good?” Taylor rasped out, his voice sleep heavy still. Beau rolled over so he was facing him. He whispered a “ _Goodmorning._ ” before leaning in to press his mouth against his.

It caught Taylor a little off guard, they haven't really done anything in a few weeks, even kisses were sparing.

Beau kissed him sweetly and slowly, coaxing his mouth open. “Mmm-”

He laughed into the kiss when Taylor stilled his fingers that were twirling a lock of his hair around.

“Uh…I...I love sleeping in this bed, I feel so safe in it. Taylor, did you know this blanket heats up?” Beau held up the controller for the electric blanket.

“Yeah, remember I showed you last night? Don't put it too high, just keep it on warm.” Taylor shoved his free arm underneath his pillow, which smelled vaguely of cigarette. Probably from yesterday, when Beau laid all over it after he smoked. Cuddling into him, Beau made a mewling noise. He tangled their feet together, rubbing the ball of his foot over Taylor’s ankle. “You can't go back to sleep, if you go back to sleep. We're supposed to be awake, don't go back to sleep.” When Taylor didn't answer, Beau shook him, “Please, don't go back to sleep. You ca-”

“- ‘M not, Beau relax! I don't want to get up yet.” Taylor sighed. Although he really did want to fall back asleep, once Beau was up- that meant he was up too.

“Oh.” Beau buried his head into his chest, lightly kissing his clavicle and rubbing circles at the skin there with his cold fingertips.

Taylor didn't think much of it, until he felt a hand sneak under the waistband of his sleep shorts, hesitantly inching down to his soft dick.

After being together for so long, Beau was still very shy about initiating anything sexual. It was always up to Taylor to make sure that aspect of their relationship was still somewhat normal but sometimes he couldn't always be the one to do that.

He peaked one eye open, glancing down at Beau. “You wanna?”

Beau was hiding his face, “Um...only if you do. Only if you want to.”

Taylor was a tad bit surprised Beau was doing this at his parents house, but they probably weren't up yet and at least their bedroom was all the way down the hall.

“What do you want?” he asked while pressing himself closer into Beau’s warm palm.

“Um, anything. Just…” Beau whispered and he pulled his hand back to lie on his back. Immediately missing the touch, Taylor slit his eyes back open to look at him. The front of Beau’s sweatpants were tented and he wondered how long Beau's been hard for. “You can get on top.” Beau told him, hands flat against the mattress. He was waiting for Taylor to make the next move, like he always did.

Taylor rolled over and lifted himself heavily to lie on top of him, in the cradle of Beau’s spread bent knees. He kissed him for a while, allowing for his own arousal to grow in his still foggy morning state.

Beau always opened his mouth easily. He kissed sloppily and with a little too much spit to the point where Taylor had to pull back and remind him there was no rush. But it didn't matter, it just showed how eager Beau was for him.

Slowly, almost teasing- he rocked against Beau until small noises started to pour out of him. It's been awhile since they've gotten off like this, rubbing together like teenagers. Something about it felt nostalgic, in his childhood room where they used to sneak around and make out in and now here they were, eight years later. It just made Taylor’s heart clench painfully.

The rough fabric clinging onto their skin was a little much, so Taylor reached in between then to pull his shorts down, urging Beau to do the same. The slide of skin on bare skin was sweet, and he sucked on the skin right below Beau’s ear to feel the way he shivered underneath his body.

Now panting, Beau dug his fingernails into the back of Taylor's neck, while his other hand lied still against the sheets.

To fix that, Taylor moved to grab ahold of it and wrapped Beau’s hand around both of them, holding it there for him. “See? L-like that, come on. Come on, come on.”

Taylor supposes it's the fact that they haven't had sex in a couple of weeks, is why they both finish so quick. It would have been embarrassing, in any other situation with any other person but Beau didn't care.

“Okay?”

Beau nodded with his eyes screwed shut. He moved his hand to clutch Taylor’s bicep, squeezing.

“Okay.” he repeated, and slipped off of Beau. They would need to take a shower, seeing as there was come on both of their abdomens. That could wait a few minutes though, there was no rush.

\---

When he was still living in the house, he can't actually remember his mom ever making him breakfast. She didn't have time, worked too much although she didn't have to. Taylor doesn't blame her for never wanting to be a stay at home mom, he imagined it got lonely.

So yeah, growing up he never had that type of mom that made him breakfast before school. It was sort of nice to have that now, but of course she becomes that type when he doesn't need it anymore. Or maybe he still does.

“How did you two sleep? Wasn't too hot up there, was it? You father still refuses to turn the heating off at night because of how cold it used to get.”

Now freshly showered, Taylor stared a little bleary eyed down at the plate of scrambled eggs and chocolate chip pancakes. He felt too old for pancakes, but guessed it was the thought that counted.

Beau, on the other hand was tearing his pancakes into strips and devouring them that way. He was jumpy this morning, alert and almost hyper, which was weird because Beau never had any long lasting energy. Taylor watched him for a few minutes before finally answering, “No, not at all.”

His mom set two mugs down and started to pour them coffee. “Beau, how do you like your coffee? Does he drink coffee, Taylor? Can he handle the caffeine?”

Taylor knows she doesn't mean to come off like this all the time, he gets it. His parents didn't understand the Schizophrenia, didn't understand why Beau refused medication- they _couldn't_ understand. So that's why he doesn't always correct them when they talk about Beau like he's not there. It's too tiring. “He drinks coffee, don't you Beau?” Taylor said, still watching him.

“I drink the coffee at um...I drink coffee sometimes, not all the time. Only when I've been good I will drink coffee.” Beau informed, with a serious face. “If I have to have coffee because I haven't been good most of the time.”

His mom chuckled, probably thought Beau was trying to be funny or something. Only once really, did Taylor explain to her that his type of Schizophrenia was the kind that caused him to not make sense most of the time. Clinically, he was a Disorganized Schizophrenic but over the years, Beau’s also shown signs of Paranoid. Though thankfully, the paranoia aspect wasn't too intense.

“Well you are certainly are a good boy today because you're drinking coffee.” she said and sometimes Taylor wanted to remind her that Beau wasn't a five year old.

“Mom,” Taylor cleared his throat. “Where is dad?”

Beau went back to tearing his pancakes into smaller strips, seemingly concentrated solely on that.

“He goes golfing every Sunday morning, you know that. He should be back around noon. Actually honey, I wanted to talk to you about something before your father brings it up.”

Taylor internally groaned because he knew whatever she was going to say wasn't going to be good. He almost didn't want her to continue because he's already had such a hard week, he didn't want to deal with whatever she was going to throw at him. His eggs were probably cold by now, his plate still untouched so he picked up his fork and gathered some food as something to do.

“Listen, I'm just going to come out and say it but before I do that, I'm letting you know that-” She held her hand up, and Taylor waited. “I don't necessarily agree with this but your father thinks it's time to cut you off.”

“What?”

“The checks, Taylor. He doesn't feel like we should have to support you at this point in your life.” she finished.

Beau still was not paying attention but Taylor couldn't expect him to. “What the fuck, I just got _fired_. You guys are all I have to rely on right now, mom. I mean, are you fucking serious right now?”

“Taylor, don't swear at me like that. I'm just telling you before you hear it from your father. You know how he is.”

He let his fork slip from fingers, clinking loudly again the plate and sat back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beau jump from the noise. His mom gave him a sympathetic sigh, and got up to refill her own cup. Now that his own parents weren't going to be helping him out, they literally just had Beau’s disability checks coming in. Which was practically nothing. _Fuck_. This week couldn't get any worse.

\---

Taylor’s father is not a total asshole. He knows that. His dad had always expected a lot out of him though, and Taylor's not sure he’ll ever fully meet up to his expectations- it's way too late for that anyway.

A month and one last check from them later, his father gets him a job selling cars.

Since he had no college education, his dad definitely had to pull a few strings. Although he did have managerial experience so that probably gave him a small boost. Not a big one though. He was grateful for the favor and had thanked his dad endlessly but this felt like another thing for him to hold over his head.

Taylor never thought he’d have a knack for selling things, that's for sure. But apparently he does, he learns that on his very first day.

Mostly, his first day is spent training and shadowing a couple of the older guys during sales, he nearly spills mustard on his brand new white button down and he meets Adam.

_Adam._

Adam was the number one top seller in the dealership four consecutive years in a row, making him the third generation in his family to do so. He was the youngest salesman to _even_ be in the top seller department. He came from money, spent a year at Harvard Law before deciding he didn't want to be a lawyer anymore and now here he was selling prestigious cars and was damn good at it. It wasn't that hard to see who was pretty much at the top of the food chain here.

This guy walked around these halls with such confidence that Taylor didn't know anyone was even capable of. He didn't even have to try, _everyone_ liked Adam. From how the other guys talked about him, he seemed like a really well respected guy all around. It made Taylor wonder how deep you had to dig for that ego though. Probably not too far down.

Not that Taylor was jealous or anything. He wasn't a competitive person, and he didn't actually care much about selling cars to be jealous but for some reason, he couldn't help but feel a prickle of annoyance every time someone mentioned his name.  

He didn't think Adam’s looks had anything to do with it. Sure, it didn't _help_ that he was a classic example of tall, dark and handsome in such an obvious way. Adam made even the married receptionist blush any time he was within sight.

It really wasn't until his sixth day working at the dealership that Adam had actually spoken more than a _hello_ to him. Taylor had made his first sale on his own- to an elder couple who were looking for a smaller, more eco-friendly car.

“Hey, congratulations on your first sale. You had a tough pair of customers there, wasn't sure if you were gonna seal the deal or not.”

Taylor snapped his head around from where he was refilling his coffee cup. He hadn't even noticed him walk into the break room. “Oh. Um, thanks.”

Adam grinned at him, and casually clapped him on the shoulder like they knew each other. “That was supposed to be a joke, it's cool though. You don't have to laugh. I can't imagine those two were difficult at all.”

Taylor watched Adam stride over to the vending machine, his long fingers sliding the quarters in. “I- well no. Sorry, I guess I didn't catch on quick enough.” Taylor said.

After a second, Adam pulled out a red Gatorade from the vending cover. He tossed it up in the air and caught it with one hand. “That's what the coffee’s for.”

Taylor half turned to him, coffee pot still in his hand and he wracked his brain for something- _anything_ to say but was cut off. “You know, I’ve kinda been watching you this last week, you’re not too bad. Might give some of the guys here a run for their money.”

“By some of the guys, do you mean _you_?” Taylor quickly retracted, and he ignored the oddly proud feeling he got just for an okay comeback.

Adam’s grin widened and he squinted his eye a little. Taylor couldn't help but notice that he had a very nice facial structure. “Well, I see _you're_ funny. That's good, we need more of that around here. I sure am not helping out with that now, am I?” Adam said.

Taylor stared back at him for a second and when Adam just continued smiling, he allowed himself to chuckle lightly to match the mood. “I can't say that you are.”

Adam laughed easily, low pitched and smooth. Now Taylor was wondering how anyone's laugh could sound _that_ good.

“Hey now, I can be funny.” he said, and pointed a finger towards him. “You’ll see. You just have to stick around.”

Taylor’s nodded, amused. “I guess I’ll just have to.”

“Well then,” Adam stepped closer and held out his hand. Taylor shook it, unsurprisingly his grip was firm and warm. “Welcome, Mr. Hall.”

What Taylor said next made him feel so stupid and so cliche but he couldn't help it, Adam practically set him up for it. “Please, call me Taylor.”

They were still shaking hands, and he could feel the tips of Adam’s fingers tighten around his palm when his eyebrow whirled up and said, “Oh, my bad- _Taylor_.”

\---

It's been a long time since Taylor’s had a _crush_ . Well- maybe he shouldn't even call it a crush. Not like that made it okay or anything but it was more like a slight admiration for a co-worker that caused butterflies in his stomach every time the guy walked by. He couldn't help it if he noticed just how _attractive_ Adam was. It wasn't just his pretty face though, it was Adam’s poise, his control, his _charm._

Taylor thinks it's fine. _It was fine._ Crushes were a natural part of life, everyone got them. That doesn't exclude people in relationships. The part that felt weird was just how much he wanted to act on it.

He found himself unconsciously standing a little taller whenever Adam was around. Every time they passed each other in the hallway, Taylor would go to smooth out his tie and find his palms already starting to sweat. When Adam asks him a question, Taylor stumbles on his words but he can't help it because he's thinking about how hot his cheeks feel just because Adam’s _looking_ at him.

Thankfully it only seemed to be relevant when he was at work, _around him._ When Taylor was at home and with Beau, Adam never even crossed his mind.

So it started to become a problem one night when dark, honey eyes and sharp cheekbones flashed behind his eyes when fucking Beau. It happened so quick, he didn't even realize that he only pushed in harder when he imagined biting kisses into the stubbly olive skin on Adam’s jaw. Taylor certainly only drove in faster at the thought of strong thighs tightening around his hips, and how that deep voice would urge him on, telling Taylor _exactly_ how to fuck him.

He imagined Adam being rough, assertive, giving him something to push back onto because emotionally- _he could do that._

It left Taylor guilty. He felt close to sick with himself when Beau buried his face in the crook of Taylor’s neck, breathing unevenly until he came because he hadn't the slightest clue that Taylor was thinking about someone else just a few seconds ago.

The next day when he had to face Adam, he felt like a huge creep- rightfully so. He decided that he was going to ignore him from now on, the fact that he pictured this guy during sex was already a shitty thing.

One thing Taylor soon found out was that Adam was awfully persistent.

Trying to subtly keep him at a distance didn't help because Adam kept _seeking_ him out and started talking to him everyday.

Maybe it was the back and forth banter, the teasing remarks that had been going on. He supposed that was the reason why Adam automatically deemed them as friends. Taylor swears he thought that was just a friendly co-worker thing.

It didn't take long before Adam started waiting for Taylor so they could take their lunches together and had suggested they exchange numbers.

They haven't talked outside of work before so at first, Taylor wasn't sure what to do with his phone number. He sort of let it sit there in his phone for a couple of days, staring at it whenever he had the free time. But then Adam had sent him a text on a Wednesday evening with a link to an article on how Neanderthals had nearly hunted humans to extinction.

 _Now-_ Taylor might've been too busy watching the way his eyes gleamed against the harsh lighting in the break room, and how the tiny bones on top of his hand stuck out as he rubbed his chin while he talked- _but_ Taylor does remember offhandedly thinking that what Adam was talking about _was_ kind of interesting.

Texting him outside of work became easier after that.

Taylor sure was using his phone a lot more too and even Beau had noticed because he tried to snatch the phone away from him one day, claiming that the front camera was only there for the government to spy on them.

Crushes or whatever it was aside, Taylor found himself liking Adam. He was nice, smart, witty and effortless. He was the kind of person Taylor always wanted to be.

Taylor wondered if he'd left a long time ago, would he have ended up with someone like Adam? Would he have _been_ Adam? Would Beau like Adam?

Speaking of Beau- “ _Taylor!_?”

“Do you need help in there?”

Beau was taking a shower, well _supposed_ to be taking a shower. Taylor had ran into the kitchen really quick to turn the oven off and all he heard was the sound of running water hitting tile along the knocking over of empty shampoo bottles. “You have to come here!” Beau shouted.

Double checking that the oven was in fact _off_ , Taylor hurried back into the bathroom, shoving the curtain back.

Beau was cupping a dollop of shampoo in his palm carefully, “Can you take this? Hurry, before it melts. It's gonna melt in my hands.”

“Do you need me to wash your hair?” Taylor asked him, stepping one foot inside. Beau smeared the shampoo onto his hand, and clutched Taylor’s shirt with his wet hands. “How come you left? I get scared when you do that. Is Beth here?”

Taylor proceeded to lather his hair up. “No, you saw her leave an hour ago, Beau. I had to go take dinner out of the oven.”

Beau hummed along and poked one eye open to watch Taylor. “She told you we went for a walk? We went for a walk outside. Did she tell you or anyone else that?”

He nodded, tilting Beau’s head back to rinse. “Yeah, I’m glad you went outside today. Maybe we can go for another walk tomorrow when I get home.”

“When the coast is clear.” Beau let Taylor finish up and when he stepped out of the shower he started rambling again. “Whenever the next train comes! I think they stop at the gas station...when the train comes next. At 34th street, they stop.”

That's the most he’s heard Beau talk to them all week. The voices haven't been very active lately, which is good because Beau’s able to focus and answer him a lot faster when they're not constantly saying things to him. Taylor knows that the little breaks they take never last very long before it starts up again.

Once it's cooled off, they eat the baked macaroni and cheese Bethany brought over. Another good thing about the voices not constantly going at him, was that Beau tended to eat more during these times.

He doesn't think the voices tell him not to or anything but it was distracting for Beau, to try and eat when there's a million other things he's feeling, hearing and possibly seeing in the moment. That's why he usually played with his food and only took a few bites. Tonight, he actually ate two full scoops.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Beau questioned, a little shyly. He covered his own hands over his eyes, fingers splayed out.

Taylor hasn't realized. He cleared his throat, “Sorry. I'm just happy that you ate everything on your plate. I'm glad no one’s talking.”

With a blank expression, Beau pushed his plate away. “I can’t hear you when they are. I’m still scared, but you wouldn't let anything happen to me.”  

“No I wouldn't.” Taylor assured. He didn't want to make Beau feel uncomfortable but he let himself stare for a few more minutes. Beau was glaring down at his hands again and he imagined Adam never glared at his hands like that. “I love you, Beau.”

Beau snapped his head up, and bit his thumbnail. “You know I have been hearing phones ringing all day. They ring, and ring and I don't understand why they don't just leave a voicemail.” His tone was very matter of factly and he paused for for couple of beats. “We don't have any phones.”

“No, we don't.” Taylor told him while standing up and grabbed his plate to put in the sink. He listened to Beau’s whines and sighs as he washed the dishes and tried not to think about how heavily the guilt still sank in the pit of his stomach. When he was done, he asked Beau if he wanted to smoke.

And he did, but not before slipping over to the front window to peek out. Leave it up to Beau to make sure no one was watching them from the lawn.

\---

“What dealership were you at before?”

Taylor gulped his water down, stopping only to take a breath before answering. “I wasn't. I’ve never worked at one until now. The job I had before this was a manager in a retail store.”

Adam raised his eyebrows, “ _Man_ , no offence, but how did you go from that to this?”

“Yeah, I know. My dad- uh, my dad is good friends with Hines and I guess just did him a favor.” Taylor told him with a shrug.  

“Huh. Are you close with your dad?”

They haven't talked much about their personal lives. They were just _casual_ friends, who worked together and talked shit to each other and sometimes texted each other about their co-workers but that was it. Now Adam was asking him about his dad. Taylor shrugged again, “Yeah, I mean we’re not like...super close but you know, he is my dad.”

Adam nodded, and took a bite of his apple. “Me too. Any siblings?”

“No, only child. You?”

“I have one sister- older. She lives all the way up in New York though, so I only get to see her a couple times a year.” Adam said. It reminded Taylor of how Beau only had Beth and she was older than him too. He wondered if Beau was doing okay at home. Before Taylor had left this morning, Beau was drinking his orange juice like he did every morning and watching a Lifetime movie. He seemed perfectly fine so Taylor had kissed his forehead and told him he’d be back at four.

Adam was sliding a bag of kettle chips over to him, “Want em? They're only 80 calories.”

With a laugh, Taylor took them and popped the bag open. “I didn't know you were calorie conscious.”

“Kettle cooked is just better for you overall. Not tryin’ to say you need it or anything. You seem like you’re in pretty solid shape.” Adam smiled, flashing his teeth.

They were nice. Straight and white. Beau’s teeth were oddly pointy, it always reminded Taylor of shark teeth. He always had found it cute. “Yeah right. I used to be in a lot better shape, when I used to play sports but that was like years ago.”

“Woah- wait, you _don't_ lift bro?” Adam deadpanned, pulling a serious looking frown on his face. Taylor gave him a look, making Adam laugh. “I wouldn't have even guessed. You uh- you look good. You always do.”

Taylor darted his eyes away, chuckling faintly. He could feel the blush coming on. Adam was still smiling at him, as he took another bite of his apple. “Um, well thanks.” He looked around, the was no one else in the break room, and the door was closed. “You too.”

Taylor shouldn't have said that probably, but he said it lightly enough that it can be taken as a joke- _or not_.

He could feel Adam watching him carefully. “Yeah, you think so?”

Taylor shouldn't have nodded. “Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment, something left unsaid and heavy in the room. Taylor doesn't think that was just him imagining it. Adam continued to watch him for a while and not once did Taylor met his gaze during this time.

After a while, Adam sat up in the chair, clearing his throat.“Did you hear about Schneider’s engagement? We’re all supposed to be signing a card or whatever, but personally- I’ll throw in a bottle of wine cause you know…”

Taylor listened to him ramble on, he was good at listening to people ramble. When he finally worked up enough confidence to look up, Adam was a little flushed himself and he didn't think it was because of the room temperature.

\---

That kept happening- the _flirting_. Well, maybe it wasn't flirting. Taylor's been out of touch with the world of romance for so long that he wasn't even sure what flirting was anymore. It was more like complementing each other when one else was around. Not like that made it any more acceptable.

\---

“Christmas is coming up. You know what that means.”

Beau's eyes lit up from his sketchbook. He loved Christmas, it was his favourite holiday and really, the only holiday they bothered to celebrate. Beau was in charge of decorating the tree and he took his job very seriously. They had a fake tree, it was cheap and a couple years old now but Beau always found a way to make it look good. No matter how broke they've been before this time of year, Taylor always made sure to put at least one thing under the tree for him. Now that he was making more money at the dealership, he could actually afford to do more for Beau. That felt good. Even though that didn't exactly mean they were wealthy now or anything, money was stable at the moment.

Taylor thought that they would never get here, but it’s a start.

Beau set down his pencil and folded his hands on the table. “This year I’m going to have a theme. It's a theme where everything's matches and it's the same, this year I will have one. See, I’ll have a theme where it matches.”

“What's your theme?” Taylor asked. In terms of decorations, they didn't have much to go around the house, but they've collected a good amount of ornaments that have been passed on by their parents. Most of them were old timey looking, which made their tree look like it was still the 80’s but that's okay. Taylor liked it that way and so did Beau.

“The theme’s going to match. I want gold and it has to match because glitter is the same...” Beau said. He looked at Taylor expectantly, and Taylor knew what he was asking because not everything they had was gold or glittery.

Taylor mimicked his expression. “That's a good theme to have in mind.” He liked that things- emotionally and financially felt light enough that he could tease Beau like this. They didn't get to do that with each other anymore.

Beau huffed a little, and he crossed his arms. “You know, we might run out of time…” he trailed off. “We have to get my theme, before we um, before we run out of time for the theme.”

“Do you want to go to the store?” Taylor asked him, with a smile.

“Yes! Can we, Taylor?” Beau exclaimed with a sudden burst of energy. He tended to do that a lot. Whether it was good shout of excitement or shout of anger.

“Are you going to be okay in the store?”

“I will be good.” That didn't really answer Taylor’s question. He can't remember how long it's been since Beau’s actually been in a store that wasn't to help him grocery shop. “I promise.” Beau told him.

They ended up at a Michaels at seven o’clock on Sunday night. Taylor can't even remember how long it's been since _he's_ been in one. They had to bring in the gloves, so that Beau could push the cart and not get burned.

“Sometimes I lose my breath when I walk. It's a horrible thing but good thing we bought jackets.”

Taylor picked up a glitter angel tree topper. “Do you like this?”

Beau’s eyes widened, he grabbed ahold of his wrist, pushing it away. “ _Don't._ ” It took a minute for Taylor to remember- _oh right, angels are religious figures_.

Instead, he picked up a snowflake tree topper. “This is gold.”

“Did you hear me, Taylor? That I lose my breathe when I walk? I-I walk and it gets lost somewhere. Probably in the dark somewhere over in Michigan or in the South.”

“I did hear you.” Taylor assured. He put his hand of the back of Beau’s neck, guiding him down the aisles.

Beau pushed the cart right past the tree toppers, exclaiming how they were dangerous so they couldn't get one.

There wasn't that many people in the store, which is why Taylor brought them so late. It allowed him to chat senselessly and for Taylor to listen without having to worry about who could hear and whenever Beau ran the cart into a wall or an aisle because he wasn't paying attention, there was no one around to give them odd looks.

He didn't have to worry about any of that so he let himself relax a little and let Beau even wander an aisle over by himself to look at tinsel. The tap on his shoulder startled him, because Beau wouldn't do that. He turned his head only to see- _of course_ , Adam.

Adam, who was holding a handbasket and wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey track pants. Even in regular street clothes, he still somehow looked so put together. “Hey stranger.” he smiled.

Taylor looked around for a minute, making sure Beau wasn't lurking. “Oh, hey. What are you doing here?” It was a dumb question, really. No one wants to be asked that.

Plus asking that question would start small talk and eventually Beau would come back looking for him and if Beau saw Taylor randomly talking to some random person- _he didn't even know Adam existed._

Adam held up a generic sparkly cone hat. “Just picking some things up for my New Years party next Saturday. You're coming, right?”

 _Shit, that's right._ Taylor hadn't given it much thought. He wasn't used to places he worked at being fancy enough to have holiday parties. After hours holiday parties where you could drink booze and make more small talk with your co-workers and their significant others. “Uh-”

“Oh come on, you have to! Kyle and I make it our own personal missions to get Hines wasted every year and every damn year, it doesn't happen. I think we could use a guy like you to help us out.” Adam tilted his head to the side, a gleam of hilarity in his eye like he was thinking about all the past attempts to get their boss drunk.

It sounded fun but- _Beau_. He couldn't leave him at home while he went out to have fun. Especially at night, Beau’s never been home by himself during the nighttime.

Taylor must’ve frowned too hard or something because Adam seemed to sense the hesitation. “I mean, it's cool if you're like busy or...don't wanna come. I was kinda looking forward to hanging out with you though.” He tapped Taylor’s arm lightly and the way Adam was smiling at him, softly and a little shyly was making his heart beat faster.

He shouldn't- but he found himself saying, “No I'm not busy at all.”

It made Adam’s eye light up, just how Beau’s eyes lit up at the mention of Christmas. _Fuck_.

“So...that mean you're coming then?” he asked hopefully.

Taylor glanced over his shoulder, he wasn't exactly sure what was the root of his anxiety right now. It could have been the thought of Beau finding him randomly conversing with someone he doesn't know, or because Adam said he was _looking forward to hanging out with him_.

It was fucked up. But that didn't stop Taylor from nodding his head, making Adam’s grin widen. “Sweet. Listen you won't regret it. I promise I will make it worth your time.”

This time Taylor laughed, “I’ll remember you said that.”

“Oh I bet you will.”

Beau was _literally_ a few aisles down. Taylor remembered that and glanced around.

“Well, I’ll let you go back to doing whatever you were doing- staring at those finger paints. You weirdo.” Adam stated with a false weirded out look.

“I wasn't _staring_ at them. I was just admiring them.”

Adam gave him a knowing look. “Oh sur-”

“ _Taylor?_ ”

The sharp pang in Taylor’s chest did nothing to help his anxiety. This is exactly what he didn't want. He shouldn't have opened up a conversation with Adam, he shouldn't have told Adam he was free on Saturday night and he definitely shouldn't have even _came here_ tonight.  

Beau looked oddly small standing all the way at the end of the aisle. His feet shuffling, and his fingernails scratching at the skin on his hands. “T-Taylor.” he said again.

He wouldn't come over willingly to where they were standing, Taylor already knew that. Beau didn't like people, he didn't like _new people_.

He quickly glanced at Adam, whose eyes trailing down to where Beau was repeatedly scratching at himself.

“Um-” Taylor started, “Can you come here please?” If he was going to do this, he wasn't going to do it half shouting across the aisle.

Beau just stared back at him, unmoving. His eyes shifted over to Adam then back to him before he very slowly stepped closer, leaving the cart at the end of the aisle. When he got close enough, he reached out for Taylor’s arm so he could hold onto it.

Taylor watched Adam’s expression carefully. He was smiling politely, trying to make eye contact with Beau.

Taylor wanted to tell him that Beau doesn't make any eye contact with a majority of people he comes across. “Well, Adam, this is Beau.” he said.

There was a pause of uncomfortable silence between all three of them until Adam cleared his throat. “Hi, Beau. Nice to meet you.”

If there was anything that would make this more awkward, he held out his hand for Beau to shake and Taylor wanted nothing more to disappear out of thin air.

Fighting the urge to grab Beau’s hand to force him to shake Adam’s hand, Taylor quickly retreated to stepping in between them, pretending like he didn't see Adam holding his hand out and acted like he was checking on their basket.

“Sorry, just making sure no one stole our cart or anything. You never know, someone could just walk by and think it's all up for grabs...” he chuckled nervously, and turned to face Beau entirely, urging him just to _acknowledge_. “This is Adam. We work together.”

By now, Adam’s hand was shoved into his pocket like he was vaguely embarrassed. Surely, he wasn't the only one. “Beau, we work together. At the dealership.” Taylor repeated.

“...Mmm...” Beau muttered. He was looking up now from the ground, not directly at Adam but at the top of his head.

Now Adam looked a little quizzed and his perfectly groomed eyebrow shot upwards the slightest. Not that Taylor could have done anything to make this less awkward in the first place but now he _really_ can't do anything to make this less awkward.

“I'm sorry, Adam you know we’ve had a really long day, been running all over town since noon and we're super tired.” Taylor lied easily, patting Beau on the back.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to keep you guys, I actually gotta head home now. I will see you tomorrow then?” Adam said and over the intercoms, an employee announced they were closing in five minutes.

Taylor bounced on the balls of his feet a little, trying to shake off the same guilty feeling that he seemed to creep up on him regularly now. “Yeah, ‘course see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, well nice to meet you again.” Adam directed at Beau, who looked away and gripped Taylor’s arm tighter.

“Bye.” Taylor said for him, and Adam shot one last glance at him before waving and heading towards checkout.

When Adam was out of sight, Beau inched closer, wrapping his arms around his torso to hug Taylor.

He didn't have to say anything for Taylor to know that made him extremely uncomfortable and now he felt _bad- bad_ because Adam most likely thought the whole exchange was rude as shit, but mostly bad for even putting Beau in that position.

He hugged Beau back, squeezing tightly for a moment and letting go. “Come on, let's pay and go home.”

Beau didn't say much in the car. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't bring it up. So Taylor did. “I’m sorry for that. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I work with him and we're like friends so. I didn't want to seem rude.”

Silence. Beau was looking out the window, onto the street lights that cast shadows on the concrete ground. “I just don't like...that.” Beau mumbled.

“I know.” Because he _did know_. Beau was the most antisocial person he knew. “I'm sorry.”

Taylor wanted to tell him that the least he could have done was say _hi_ or something but he knew better than that. Beau couldn't help that this was just the way he was.

When they were getting ready for bed that night, Beau slipped a sweatshirt over his head and stared at Taylor as he rearranged their pillows. “You work with him at your work? You work together?”

Taylor met his gaze, and shrugged as casually as he could. “Yeah.”

“Why don't you talk about him?”

 _Because I can't exactly talk about the crush I have on my co-worker to my boyfriend._ “You want me to talk about everyone I work with?”

Beau shook his head, in all honesty, he didn't care enough to hear about any of Taylor's jobs or anything relating to work. He just didn't have any interest in it, he couldn't. That was more than okay with Taylor.

“Taylor?”

“Hmm?”

“Does he know?” Beau asked.

Taylor continued to throw the blankets over them, tucking the edges in over Beau’s side. “I don't talk about your Schizophrenia. Why would I go tell everyone about something like that?”

“No!” Beau loudly voiced, he paused for a couple of minutes. Taylor stopped and waited. “Not that! That's not what I was talking about! Do you ever listen to me? That's not what I said!”

Taylor wasn't going to say that he always listened to him, but only 85% of what he said was comprehensible. “Then what?”

“Um…” He stared off into space, trailing off. He was losing focus and was irritable, he must've been tired. It really had been a long day, not in a bad way but just because they've been up since six in the morning and lazed around, doing nothing. There was at least some truth to what he said earlier. “I can't…” Beau whined out.

Crawling onto the bed, Taylor got under the covers with a sigh. “Lay down. Get some sleep.”

Beau lied down on his back, his legs kicking up under the sheets. “Oh! I remember what I was going to say. It's cause...do you tell your friends about me?”

Taylor propped himself on his elbow, so he could look down at Beau. “I don't go screaming out to the world that I’m in a relationship for no reason. But if someone asks, then yeah, I tell them I have you.”

Beau was biting at his lip, looking distracted again. He probably wasn't even listening but that was okay. It gave Taylor time to think about what Adam was probably doing. If he was in bed alone or maybe there was someone else there- Taylor didn't think so but he also didn't know Adam _that_ well. Maybe Adam had a casual someone with no strings attached. It wouldn't be too hard to believe.

But then he wondered how someone like Adam could be single. He was perfect in every way. Taylor wondered what it would be like to be in that bed with him right now, if Adam would be sleeping or awake, shivering with evening chill or burning up with heat.

“I love you, Beau. Sweet dreams.” Taylor said, laying back down on his side. A couple of times before he fell asleep, Beau slit his eyes open to lightly pinch the skin on Taylor’s arm, not hard but enough for Taylor to grab his hand and put it between his thighs so he would stop. He listened to Beau’s breath even out over time and petted his stringy blond hair, until he finally was out.

And he did. He really, really did.  

\---

“Funny running into you last night.”

Taylor's head snapped up from where he was typing on his computer, “Shit, sorry about-.”

Adam kicked the door he didn't bother to knock on closed. He had an armful of end of the month reports that he tossed onto one of the guest chairs and sat down in the other. “It’s okay, really.” He held up his hand, “I'm sure no one wants to be stuck in a craft store on a Sunday night for any longer than they have to.”

“Yeah, but still, sorry about the awkward…” Taylor waved his hand in the air.

Adam nodded with a tight lipped expression, “ _Very_ awkward.” He scrutinized at Taylor, the corners crinkling slightly. “Was he your friend or cousin or something? I can see you being related, with the blond hair and all.”

Taylor quietly laughed. He could feel his heart rate pick up again, and it felt strange to anticipate Adam’s reaction with what he was about to say. “Definitely not related, he’s my uh- Beau’s my boyfriend.”

Although he was still looking at his computer screen, the weight of Adam’s gaze on the side of his face was abounding. “ _Boyfriend_? I uh, didn't realize you had one.” There was a slight waver in Adam’s voice. He didn't know why he sort of liked that.

“Yeah...” Taylor let that hang in the air for moment, not knowing exactly what else to say. He probably wasn't planning on actually telling Adam but since he asked, well he still wasn't going to _lie._

“Okay.” Adam repeated. Taylor finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen and watched Adam was pick at the plastic cover on the chair. “So uh- you have a boyfriend huh? How long have you guys been together?”

“Been together since we were teenagers so- ‘bout eight years now.” Taylor told him carefully, watching his expression.

Adam knit his eyebrows together tightly, his fingernails now digging into the flimsy cover. “Jesus man, eight years?”

Still nodding, Taylor took a moment to look at him. He didn't think Adam was upset; maybe a little disappointed.

“That's a really long time.”

Adam wasn't stupid, he was aware of how Taylor looked at him. He pushed back, _teased_ back, Taylor blames him for even starting all of this.

Taylor can't exactly blame Adam for making him want him though. He had to remind himself of that. That's where it was his own fault.

“You must be really happy with him.” Adam said again, it was probably supposed to be a statement but it came out with an edge of questioning.

There was a lot Adam didn't know. He didn't know that a year ago Taylor didn't go a day without thinking about leaving Beau because he was so depressed. Didn't know that he hated every mental illness with every ounce in his body because of how much it’s seemed to have taken over his life.

“I am.” Taylor said, because it was true. He was happy with Beau, but he also couldn't help if he looked forward to seeing the look of jealousy flicker over Adam's face when he said so.

\---

They did Christmas a little differently this year. Bethany and her boyfriend, Peter came over on Christmas Eve. Beau’s parents joined them for a few hours because it's been awhile since they've seen him.

So this was the most people they have had over in a very long time. Also, for the first time in three years, Taylor's parents would be coming over Christmas Day to have dinner with them. For some reason, whenever it was _his_ parents that were coming over to their house, he tended to over think and freak out. Taylor used to hate them seeing him living in this tiny dingy house that didn't have heating, and that was always on the verge of messy even though he _just cleaned it._

He's making more money now though, eventually he would save up enough to get them out of here but until then, he could do little things like actually buy curtains for the living room and buy a nicer dining table that wasn't scratched and had things carved into it and spend a few more bucks on a better quality bedsheets. His parents couldn't see the new bedsheets but it made Taylor feel all the more better about it.

Beau didn't decorate the tree until Christmas Eve day. He set an alarm on Taylor’s brand new smartphone and woke up extra early so it would be done by the time his sister and her boyfriend got here.

At around eleven o’clock, Taylor rolled out of bed and came into the living room. The tree was lit up beautifully, it was gold themed just how Beau wanted, with the odd black or white ornament and gold tinsel tossed on top. He wasn't aware Beau had sneaked in the tinsel after Taylor told him it would be too messy; he looked like he’d taken extra precaution with it.

“It looks amazing, Beau. Great job.” Taylor commented, coming over to take a closer look. It was chilly enough in the house for him to put on a hoodie and thick winter socks, but Beau was just in his underwear and had been sitting on top of the coffee table.

He was drinking something out of a cup, one of their old plastic ones. “I guess I did it right this time...um...yeah. I like it.” Was all he said.

“There's never a time you do it wrong, it always looks good.” Taylor frowned. He pulled Beau up from the table because he wasn't supposed to be sitting on top of it. “Can you please not sit on that. I've told you a million times, it's glass.”

Beau got off, and sat on the floor instead. “Beth will like it, you think? Her favorite color is gold. Gold. It's her favorite.”

That got Taylor's attention, it wasn't often Beau remembered things like that. “Beth is going to love it. That's so sweet of you to decorate the tree in her favorite color.”

He shrugged, not knowing how to handle the praise and looked down into his cup with a blank face. “It's her tree, her Christmas and gold is what she wanted. Her Christmas tree...and she doesn't have to have it her way, y’know? She doesn't but I don't either.”

Taylor bent down to kiss his cheek, patting him on the shoulder blade. “Are you hungry?”

Beau asked for a grilled cheese even though it wasn't even noon yet. Taylor made him one anyways and listened to him talk.

Beau doesn't exactly ask for anything, so he's a little tough to pick out stuff for. There's not much he enjoys. Taylor got him a new sketchbook, and a pack of good drawing pencils. He got him a new set of heather grey thermals, because if Beau’s not in sweats, he likes to wear those. He also got Beau a couple other miscellaneous clothing items that he needed and his very own electric heating blanket, and calls it a day.

He figures that's enough, since he's also forking out money to get something for Beth and Peter. They are about to be engaged, which everyone pretty much knows about so he figures another electric heating blanket is practical.

He gets to wrapping all the gifts after they eat and after he makes Beau put on at least some sweatpants. Takes them a while, but eventually Beau slips them on. “These make my legs itch, I need to take them off.”

“I don't want you to freeze, Beau.” Taylor tells him.

“I can't freeze, that doesn't happen to me. That's such a stupid thing t- the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say.”

Beau is watching _The Big Sleep_ on the bed and Taylor has to kneel on ground while he wraps the gifts so he doesn't get a glimpse. Although he never peaks, Beau likes the surprise. “Can I take the pants off, I told you my legs itch with the pants on. I'm gonna take them off, they make my legs itch.”

Taylor rolls his eyes from where he's sitting on the floor. “Fine, freeze then.” And with that, Beau hands him both his sweats and boxers wadded up in a ball.

“I'm going to get under the blankets, don't be mad. It's just they make my legs itch and...I- I promise I will put clothes on when Beth gets here. Are you mad?”

“No, I'm just trying to help you not be cold.” Taylor says and goes back to wrapping.

The movies almost over when Taylor mentions that he got Bethany and Peter an electric blanket. With an excited gasp, Beau pauses the movie. “Ever since I was born, I've always wanted one.”

Taylor chuckles lowly, lately he's been hearing the _‘ever since I was born’_ phrase and it always makes him laugh. “I'm pretty sure you've even never used one until a few weeks ago.”

It wasn't until later in the day that Beth arrived, overnight bag and boyfriend in tow. They had bought their own air mattress to sleep on since the couch wasn't big enough to fit two people comfortably.

“Wow the tree looks so beautiful! I like it a lot, Beau!” Bethany exclaimed.

Beau pretends like he doesn't hear, and instead goes to rearranging all of his presents under the tree. He lines them up, putting them in order from which he will open first to last and he does this until another car pulls into the driveway. Beth and Peter go out to greet her parents, while Beau remains frozen, frowning into open space. “I need to make room to make sure...there's room so that there's room. _Taylor?”_

“Yeah?”

Beau is wringing his hands nervously now, and he stands up, disappearing into the bedroom and shutting the door closed behind him.

Taylor lets him go for few minutes because he probably just needed a second to himself. It's rare that Beau had his parents and sister together at the same time, it was probably making him feel a little uncomfortable.

“Beau! Come out here!” Beth shouted from the porch. Taylor winced at that because obviously Beau wasn't _just_ _going to go outside_. The front door opened loudly and Beau’s mom walked in. “Hi, Taylor. How’re you?”

She was carrying two reusable bags, holding one out for him to take. “Hi Kerri. I'm doing well, thanks. Here let me take that.”

With a smile, she held out her arms for a hug, “Oh come here, you.”

She was the type of mom to hug her children's significant others. Taylor tried not to think about his own mom never hugged Beau. Kerri gave a once over to the kitchen, and asked, “Did anyone start dinner yet? I bought some food over, Beth said she was going to help you cook tonight.”

Taylor nodded, “Well we were just sort of waiting for you guys to get here.”

Although he wasn't super close with Beau’s parents or anything, he enjoyed it when they visited. They had always liked Taylor and were a lot more open minded than his own parents.

“Where's my son? Sleeping?”

“No, he went off somewhere. Hold on, let me go get him. He was fine all day so…” he trailed off, already heading to their room.

He knocked once before coming in. Beau was laying on the ground with a pillow over his head. Taylor shut the door, and sat down with him. “Everyone's here now, you wanna come say hi?”

Beau didn't answer so Taylor lifted the pillow off his face. “You don't have to stay out there if you don't want to, but why don't you come say hi to your parents real quick. You haven't seen them in a while.” he suggested with a light tone. Beau was glaring up at the ceiling and Taylor watched him for a few more seconds before trying again.

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll check back in an hour to see how you're feeling.” Slowly, he started to get up, until Beau grabbed his shirt to stop him. “What's up, huh?” Taylor asked him.

Still glaring at nothing, Beau covered up his face back with the pillow. “C-can yo-” He stuttered a few more times, trying to get his words out, before stopping completely. “Fuck! Fuck!”

Taylor rubbed his arm, soothingly. “It's okay Beau. Try to relax.”

“Can you make everyone just...go away…I don't- I hate everyone. Just make them go away, please. Make them leave, and go away.” Beau finally got out and he took a huge deep breath after like even just talking was taking a lot out of him. Just like Taylor thought, he was just a little overwhelmed. Too many people in the house, Beau wasn't used to it.

He continued trying to calm him down. “You’re okay, sweetie. Everything is okay.”

They stayed that way for a couple more minutes, there was a knock at the door. “ _No no no no no._ ” Beau muttered.

Taylor got up, and cracked the door open. “We’ll be out soon, alright?”

“Is he fine or?” Bethany asked, trying to peer inside. Taylor gets that she's probably excited to have all of them back together but it was starting to irritate him how pushy she was being.

“He doesn't want to come out right now, I'm trying okay? I told you, we’ll be out soon.” Taylor says and shuts the door closed again. He didn't want to deal with the concerned look on Bethany’s face right now, he needed to focus on Beau.

“Beau,” he tried again but realized pushing him wasn't going get them anywhere so instead he sat back down next to him, “It’s okay. Just relax.”

\---

Eventually, Taylor was able to get him to shyly inch back out. Beau changed his clothes twice before that, finally settling on shorts and a sleeveless tank before saying he was ready. Goosebumps erupted all over his pale skin, but Taylor wasn't going to ask him to put on something warmer.

He only made eye contact with his mom once, when she kissed his cheek and hugged him tight. And Taylor watched as Kerri talked his ear off while Beau just stared at the ground and hummed every now and then.

“Beau, are you happy to have everyone here like this? It's been a long time, huh?” His dad asked, patting his shoulder.

“Mmm.” Beau said, still not looking up. He had an awkward grimace on his lips, which he wore quite often when he was trying to show emotion. Taylor left him with his parents, figuring they would want some alone time with him.

He decided to head into the kitchen where he found Bethany was whispering hushedly to Peter, and stopped abruptly when she noticed Taylor.

“What?” he asked, though he knew she was most likely complaining about him snapping at her earlier.

Peter quietly mentioned something about using the restroom, and Beth just crossed her arms. “Nothing. Clearly, I'm fine.”

“Look I know you're upset at something, might as well just tell me what it is while it's just us.” Taylor said. He and Beth have always had a good relationship, because it was built solely on taking care of the person that they both loved, they seemed to have a certain level of understanding and patience that they sort of just bonded on.  

She busied herself by drying the wet dishes that sat in the rack by the sink. “Taylor- you don't have any brothers or sisters.”

“Okay.” he slowly drawled out. Sure, he knew where this was going but he didn't actually want to hear it.

Beth nodded, with a tight lipped smile. “So you don't know what it's like to have a baby brother. And you don't know what it's like to spend your entire childhood with your favourite playmate and best friend and watch him grow up to evolve into this amazing and kind human being, only to wake up one day and have your parents tell you they had to emit him to a mental hospital because he was trying to kill himself.”

Taylor didn't say anything. That day was something they never talked about. He _was there_ when it changed, and he doesn't have to be Beau’s older sibling to know what is was like.  

“Do you know how long it's been since my parents have been in the same room with _both_ of us at the same time since the diagnosis? A whole four years! So excuse me for being excited to have my family back together again for fucking Christmas and who knows how long it will be before it happens again.” Beth finished weakly.

She looked close to tears so Taylor pulled her in for a hug. “I just want him to know we all still love him, and that he had a family that's here for him no matter what.” she muffled in his shirt.

“He knows, Beth. Trust me, he knows.” Taylor assured, squeezing her tightly. There wasn't a day that went by where he didn't worry about it either.

He let her go and handed her a napkin to wipe her eyes. They were the same clear sky blue colour as Beau’s and just like her brother’s, they turned a foggy grey shade whenever tears had found their way out. Either way, Taylor always thought they were beautiful.

“Why didn't he want to come out?”

“Beau was overwhelmed that's all. He didn't know what to do with himself, just need to be alone for a while. You know that.” Taylor spoke softly.

Beth dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “He let you in...he always lets you in. I guess I'm just a tiny bit jealous in that way. To him, you're _Taylor_.” She mimicked the drawn out way Beau says his name and smiled a little. “When it's just me and him here, you're all he talks about. He just...he trusts you so much. You really are like his life, y’know?”

Taylor smiled back, and hugged her again. “I know but I can't ever replace the role of his big sister. He’ll always need you too, Beth.”

Bethany sighed, and glanced in the oven reflection to check her makeup. “Yeah. I guess you're right.” She pinched his arm with a playful grin.

“See? You're just like him, always pinching me.”

Though he didn't have any siblings of his own, he always kind of felt like Bethany was the sister he never had. In a way, they relied on each other and he liked that they could get upset with each other, talk it out and just move on because there were more important things to focus on, like Beau.

After all, he was the reason they were in each other's lives.

\---

Beau relaxed the minute his parents left. Taylor knew that deep down inside, he appreciated them coming here but always felt bad for them because Beau couldn't _show_ it.

“Do you want to back in the room?” Taylor asked him. Beau was spread out on the couch, watching TV.

“You can sit here.” Beau answered. It looked like he was watching the news, to which Taylor quickly changed.

One time- a long time ago, Taylor had walked in on Beau watching the five o’clock news. He didn't think much of it until Beau slowly turned to him and told Taylor he wasn't sure why the newscaster was talking about him directly to him through the TV.

Being seventeen, Taylor should have been able to laugh at it and tell him to stop being dumb but Beau was dead serious. Also being seventeen, it scared the fuck out of Taylor, so he told Beth, who told his parents. They passed it off as one of Beau's strange remarks. It was one of the first signs Taylor can remember that something was off with him.

“I can open my presents tonight, right?” Beau asked, looking at him from underneath his half lidded gaze. He kicked his leg up to rest it on top of Taylor’s lap.

“Yes, you can.” Taylor told him and he smoothed his palm over the curve of Beau’s kneecap, feeling the rough skin there. “You can open them whenever you want.”

Beau hummed and went back to watching the television, which was now on some kind of low budget looking history channel. Taylor studied the tree. The gleaming white lights wrapped perfectly around the width of the plastic forest green tree, the light sprinkling of tinsel dusted on the branches and the well thought out placement of each ornament. Taylor could never have half the decorating skills he had, Beau always really did make it look beautiful.

He looked at how Beau rearranged the gifts, the biggest in the back, and the smaller ones in the front. There was one lone tiny silver glitter bag sitting on the edge of the silky white gold tree skirt that he hadn't noticed before. Taylor didn't think he saw Beth walk in with it, she hadn't even put anything under the tree yet. “Did your sister put that there?”

Beau sat up, turning his head to where Taylor nodded to. “Those are mine, I um...lined them up so they don't get lost. I would hate for them to run away.”

“No,” Taylor shook his head and pointed to the silver bag. “That. Or did your parents bring that?”

Kerri had already slipped him some money earlier, which she didn't have to do- but he appreciated it nonetheless. Beau got up from the couch, his shoulder twitching upwards twice and he picked the bag up and brought it over.

He held it carefully with both hands and sat back on the couch, facing Taylor. “I put it there.”

“What is it? I already got Beth and Peter something, you didn't have to get anything.”

Beau furrowed his eyebrows, “No, will you listen to me? You never listen to me. I _said_ I put it out here, for you.”

Taylor squinted at him, one corner of his mouth pulling back slowly. “You got that for me?”

Nodding, Beau ran his fingertips over the grainy glitter on the bag. “I wanted...I-I wanted to get you...it's Christmas a-and Beth helped me. I had to hide it in the the bottom drawer because you never look there.” He wasn't looking at Taylor, but off into open space, unblinking.

Beau’s never gotten him a Christmas present before, in all the years they've been together. Even before the Schizophrenia happened, when they were just kids, they never brought each other presents. But when they moved in together, Taylor felt like the Christmas presents tradition they both grew up with was a way to try preserve some normalcy. It was sweet of Beau, to even think of asking Beth to help him with this. It was moments like these that Taylor didn't doubt that Beau still loved him just as much as he did despite his illness.

Taylor surged forward to kiss him, his lips catching on the corner of Beau’s chapped lips. He pressed tiny kisses there over and over until Beau was frowning and squirming in his arms.

“You're lips feel like numb. They feel weirdly.” Beau mumbled, trying to lean away from him.

He couldn't help but smile against Beau’s cheek, an insane amount of affection swelling up in his chest. “I don't care. Come here.”

\---

When he was eleven years old, his parents almost divorced. At the time, he thought it was just because they yelled too much and didn't talk enough. He wasn't sure _why_ , but his mom always assured Taylor that it had nothing to do with _him_. They didn't divorce though and the more time went on, the less he thought about it.

When he was sixteen, one night he spent the night at his aunt’s house when his parents were out of town on business. His aunt was always cool, she was in her late thirties and hated the idea of getting married, kids, and loved to drink. She let Taylor have his first beer at twelve, which is exactly why he liked her. When she drunkenly let it slip out about how his dad used to regularly cheat on his mom, a small part of him began to hate her. _Why would she tell him that? Did she want to hurt his feelings? Did it make her feel better about herself to shit all over his parents almost failed marriage?_

After he found that out, he didn't talk to his dad for three months. He didn't understand why his dad would cheat. It didn't make sense to him to _lust_ after another person else when you were already with someone you loved.

His mom didn't deserve it one bit, but his dad cheating wasn't about his mom. It was about _him._

Taylor understood it now.

\---

Apparently Adam holds this New Years party annually and apparently, it was always a good time because of the amount of alcohol involved. It didn't shock him much that Adam lived on the good side of town, in a small house that was modern looking and well kept. It was the kind of house that Taylor wanted to live in.

Beth had been free to watch Beau for a few hours, and when Taylor left they were eating pizza and watching _Casablanca_. Beau seemed fine, so he kissed his forehead and told him he would be back later.

Taylor didn't feel bad not bringing him, Beau wouldn't have wanted to come anyways and Taylor would’ve felt weird about bringing him to Adam’s house. So, it was fine.

Someone hands him a beer the second he steps in the door. Basically it all goes to shit from there. He doesn't get to drink very often, so maybe that's why he sort of goes hard within the first hour. It's so good, he feels good. He feels loose and silly, and he’s talking non stop. It doesn't even occur to his brain that maybe he should take a breath for a second and shut the fuck up.

He’ll be embarrassed about it on Monday, he’s sure but Devante and Mike from Accounting are just as wasted as him, chatting and laughing alongside with him.

It's _11:47_ and Taylor still hasn't spotted Adam anywhere, when he asks someone's girlfriend where he is, she just sits him down because apparently he was swaying back and forth.

“-‘M just lookin’ for Adam, I'm trying t’ look for him but I can't find him!” he slurs out, and she goes to get him some water. She opens the bottle cap for him and for a second, it reminds him of Beau.

He drunkenly wonders if this is how Beau must feel all the time, out of control but in a way that was fun and unmindful.

He can't remember whose girlfriend she is but she's really fucking pretty and Taylor’s about to tell her that but then- “Ah _fuck!_ ”

The wave of nausea hits him like a ton truck going ninety-five on the highway and he doesn't mean to dry heave so blatantly right in front of her. How rude.

“Ohhhhh no. Come on, don't throw up, don't throw up! This way!” she says and pulls him toward what he assumes is the bathroom.

Adam’s bathroom is unnervingly clean. There's no wad of towels on the floor, no globs of toothpaste on the counter, so he feels bad when he can't hold it in any longer and promptly throws up on the toilet rim, barely making the rest into the bowl.

“Aw, sweetie.” The girl coos to him and pets his back for him. Taylor appreciates the gesture and tries to express that to her but he can't quite get it out because of the dry heaving. “Shh. It's okay, just- wait right here okay?”

Taylor made a weak noise as acknowledgment and he's left alone to stare at the liquid vomit in the toilet. He’s trembling slightly and completely dizzy. “I-I jus’ wan-” he tries but his throat hurts.

The door swings open. “Taylor? Are you alright?”

He turns at the sound of his voice, “Adam! Wait don't look at me, I ruined your perfect bathroom.”

Adam chuckles, shutting the door behind him. “Oh man, you puked everywhere…”

“I'm drunk.” Taylor says. He wants to say _I can't help it_ but he really, totally could. “Where’ve you been all night, I was looking for you.”

“Sorry, everyone kept pulling me away. Here, let's flush _this_.” Adam leans over him and he smells good, like tobacco and mint.

Taylor watches patiently as he wets a washcloth and wipes up the toilet rim. He sort of can't believe he embarrassed himself this hard but he also sort of likes watching Adam taking care of him. “Everyone wants your attention, but you shouldn't give it to them because they don't deserve it.” Taylor says to him.

“Not that I think you wanna, but I'm not letting you drink anymore tonight.” Adam laughs while wetting another rag. He kneeled down next to Taylor, cupping his chin so he could run the cool cloth over his sweaty forehead.

This close, he could see Adam’s five o’clock shadow coming in and he imagined what would happen if he reached up to feel. “Adam.”

Adam stopped and looked at Taylor. Maybe he was waiting and Taylor liked that. Liked how he was focused solely on Taylor and no one else, and Taylor was still so dizzy with it that maybe he could just reach up and…

“Why don't you come lie down? I’ll get you some ibuprofen.”

Taylor blinked at him a couple of times. Adam cleared his throat once more and nudged his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, and helped him up.

Taylor thinks he might have leaned in slightly but it might have also been because he can hardly keep his body upright. Before he could give it much thought, he’s being hauled out of the bathroom. The muffled shouts of people cheering and talking filled their ears. Adam kicks open his bedroom door, “Here, sit down.” He nodded to the huge bed that sat in the middle of the room.

Taylor all but dragged his feet towards it, suddenly feeling lethargic. The entire world around him was spinning, his head felt like concrete sitting on his shoulders.

“It’s midnight.” Adam whispered.

It took Taylor a few moments to realize that his face was mashed against the bed, he must've slumped over the second he sat down. “Mmm…”

The bed dipped next to him, there was a hand on the back of his neck, “Shhh, you're okay.”

The last thing Taylor recalls thinking about is the comforting warmth of Adam’s voice soothing him to sleep.

\---

Taylor wakes up not too long after. He wakes up even more sweaty and uncomfortable, he wakes up alone.

It's cool in Adam’s room, but not cold. It helps with his burning cheeks as he recalls what an idiot he’s made himself look like tonight. “Goddamnit.”

Now everyone probably thinks he's a lightweight or something, puking in the bathroom and passing out like that.

The door is ajar and Taylor tries to figure out what time it is. He isn't sure where his phone is or where Adam is, for that matter.

He sits up slowly, just in case he feels nauseous again but he doesn't. There is a dull headache forming instead and his arm is asleep from the way he was lying on it but that was it. Taylor takes a moment to look down at the fluffy white comforter. It's soft to the touch and it smells like it was just washed. He feels bad for laying all over it like an asshole with his sweaty clothes.

“You missed the ball drop.”

Adam was changed into lounge clothes. He looked relaxed and Taylor wondered how much he's had to drink tonight. He was carrying a plain black coffee mug with a tea bag string hanging out of it. “You were out longer than I thought. Everyone's gone now. You feelin any better?”

Taylor tried swallowing, but found his throat was also sore. “Um-” He coughed once. “Sorry I passed out. I- what time is it?”

“Just a little after two.” Adam told him. He held out the mug for Taylor to take.

 _Shit_ , Beau was probably freaking out. He should text Beth and let her know he was okay at least. Although it is a New Year's party, she should understand. “Holy shit, I should go. I'm really sorry for...did I...have you seen my phone anywhere?”

Adam glanced around the room, “No, I haven't. I’ll go check out there but- you should drink that. It will help your sore throat.”

Taylor furrowed his eyebrows, “How did you know my throat is sore?”

Adam dropped his head timidly, “You talk in your sleep.”

“Oh?”

Taylor didn't know he did that. He wondered if Beau’s ever noticed. Beau wouldn't have ever mentioned it to him though. Sometimes Taylor misses being told about the little things he does unconsciously like that, the cute little quirks he had that used to make Beau laugh.

He likes that Adam notices things and tells him, likes that Adam brought him tea and let him pass out on his bed. Taylor likes that Adam cared and could show it. He misses Beau showing that he cared.

Adam says, “Yeah, I just- like you were saying that it hurt to swallow so I just thought, like tea helps me so I just…”

Was Adam in here with him the entire time he slept, listening to Taylor talk in his sleep?

“No one's ever told you? Not even your boyfriend?” Adam questioned with a slight raise of triumph in his voice. It created a skip in his chest, and without thinking- or rather because he was _overthinking_ , Taylor leaned in and kissed him.

He needed this. Not for any other reason than this was for _him._ He needed to feel what Adam’s perfectly symmetrical lips would do under his because he was tired of the constant guilt and the _what if’s_ and the wondering every single day what _this_ with Adam would be like if Beau wasn't an obstacle standing in his way.

Taylor loved Beau but Taylor was also still drunk. That didn't change the fact that Adam was right here _so close_ and that Adam was so _perfect_ , and maybe, just for a split second Taylor can have this for himself. Just to _see what happens._

So he moved quickly just in case Adam ducked out of his reach. He didn't, froze up instead. Taylor breathed carefully against his pliant lips and brought a hand up to cup the back of Adam’s neck, “Tell me you don't want it and I’ll back off.”

He hoped that was enough to help Adam decide if he was going to continue sitting there, unmoving or push back like Taylor wanted. He was too familiar with _submissive_ and _docile_ , he needed to feel what it's like to kiss someone who put in the effort to make him feel good too.

It worked, because Adam started kissing back.

This was what they have been building up to all along.

The flirting, the longing looks, the _jealousy_ but there must be a trick to this, must be a puzzle they had to solve or something because the lack of fireworks that were not happening was making Taylor worried.

Taylor brought his other hand up to clutch the shorter hairs on the back of his head, slipping his tongue last Adam’s lips to see if that helped. Adam’s hand resting on his thigh, absently digging into the muscle there. Maybe he was thinking really hard like Taylor was. Trying to figure out why emotionally this wasn't clicking like he thought it would, why it felt _wrong_ and not absolutely amazing and why Adam was slowing the kiss down.

“No-” Taylor murmured a little desperately. “Wai-”

“ _Taylor,_ ” Adam softly whispered. He squeezes his eyes shut, pulling back from him completely.“You have a boyfriend.”

It wasn't the fact that Adam pulled away that made him want to burst into tears but the fact that as soon as their lips touched, he felt _nothing._

Adam had to physically push him away when Taylor leaped back forward, trying to bring their mouths together once more in a frenzied attempt.

The way he stood up from the bed to put distance between them made Taylor want to apologize for embarrassing himself so much tonight. The drunk excuse wasn't a great one but it was the only one he had.

“Don't throw all that away just for someone momentarily want. It’s not worth it.” Adam says.

 _It's not worth it._ Those words rang through Taylor’s eardrums like a screeching alarm just went off in his head. He wanted it to be worth it and now his entire face felt like it was on fire. Anger was coursing throughout his chest, trying to fight it down just so he can get a word out.

“I can't fucking believe it.” He says mostly to himself.

Adam was quiet. “Believe what?”

“I-” Taylor didn't know how to explain it. He almost didn't want to put the words together for Adam to understand. “I thought I wanted it.”

“Me too.” Adam threw his hands up in the air, helplessly. His eyes were wide and glassy. Taylor believes him.

He felt hazy and sloppy. This _moment_ felt like a lot. “I thought that would have been different.”

“But- but Taylor, you have a _boyfriend_. You shouldn't have wanted it to be different.” Adam urged.

“You wanted it too, don't act like I was the only one. You're not so innocent.”

Adam shakes his head. “Yeah, I did want it but if I knew you were seeing someone from the gecko- I would have never-” He paused and Taylor waited. “You know what, don't fucking try to turn this on me. You led me on until I had to literally _ask_ who Beau was to you and you just sat there like it wasn't a big deal. How do you think I feel? I really did like you, Taylor but after you told me about him, _I backed off_ okay? You didn't.” Adam finished with a huff and stomped over to the other side of the room, exhaling loudly.

Taylor stayed where he was on the bed in Adam's room and they didn't say anything for a while but that's okay because neither of them felt much like talking.

Taylor busied himself by trying to focus on the millions of racing thoughts in his mind, sorting them out the best he could but eventually he gave up because his head was pounding. He ended up sliding onto the floor with his back against the bedframe, needing something to lean against.

And after a while Adam made a defeated noise and sat down next to him, a little hesitant. “You're not gonna try to kiss me again if I sit here, right?”

“I have a boyfriend.” Taylor said, staring straight ahead.

Adam just snorts and scoots closer. “Yes, you do but that didn't seem to stop you twenty minutes ago.”

The only thing in Taylor’s plain view was Adam’s probably expensive alarm clock that sat on his dark oak dresser. That was enough to stare at comfortably while he thought about how he was going to repress this memory but then that got boring so instead he moved on to thinking about his own mattress at home. It was only a queen, unlike Adam's California King.

It lumpy and dated and all of their pillows were flat. Beau refused to let Taylor replace them because he liked basically for his head to be against the mattress. They slept with about a hundred blankets that were mismatched and worn but Taylor thinks he liked it that way. It made their bed feel like _theirs_.

If- _if kissing Adam had felt different_ , Taylor thinks he would have ended up in a bed that wasn't the one he’s grown to love so much. “Do you think if it was good, we would have slept together?”

He looked at Adam, who was already studying his face and his lips were pressed together in a firm line. Adam waited a second before sighing heavily and shaking his head. “Probably.”

Taylor nodded. That was all he needed to hear. “Okay.”

“ _Taylor_ that's not fucking okay. I don't want to be that person that breaks up a relationship, that's not who I am.” Adam says, raising his voice again and that's not who Taylor thought he was either but it's also not like Taylor ever thought he would be a cheat. Like his father. “I thought you were happy with Beau.”

“I am.” Taylor says.

“Then why did you fucking kiss me?” Adam sounded angry, just as angry as Taylor had been after he pushed him away.

Adam was good, too good at not losing complete control over himself. Certainly better than Taylor and it was nice to hear Adam yelling at him like this.

“Why didn't you fucking bring him here tonight, huh? So you could try and get me in bed to satisfy whatever you think it is that will make your life better? Why couldn't you just leave it, Taylor? You shouldn't be doing this kind of shit when you have someone at home waiting for you. Fuck that and fuck being that kind of guy.”

Maybe all Taylor needed was to hear it this way. He sat there, silent while Adam glared at him until he slumped back against the bedframe with him.

It got quiet again.This time for so long that Taylor thought Adam was beginning to fall asleep.

“You shouldn't be kissing other people.” he sighed out, light and syrupy sounding.

Taylor whispers back, “I know. I'm sorry.”

Adam blinked at him, and Taylor looked back. He seemed tired and Taylor felt bad for keeping him up so he lifted his arm and pulled Adam into lean against him. “I really am.”

Adam continued to stare at him, and slid down even further until his head rested on Taylor's shoulder. “This is me, putting my head on your shoulder as friends. Don't get any ideas.”

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at that. It felt good to laugh. He felt a hell of a lot less confused so he took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.

“He’s not a people person, huh?” Adam said again.

Even though Taylor knew, he still asked. “What do you mean?”

“It's just, that night. He didn't seem to like me very much.”

“Oh,” He still forced himself to act somewhat baffled, though he’s sure Adam sensed it. “Beau’s very socially awkward. Don't take it personally.”

“But-” Adam started, but paused like he was trying not to say something. Taylor glanced at him, waited. “He wouldn't even look at me. Is he like that with a lot of people?”

The alarm clock on Adam’s dresser read _2:48._ Taylor thought he already made the decision not to tell anyone about Beau’s illness.

“I used to know a guy in college who was socially awkward. He like never talked or made eye contact with anyone. We all thought it was pretty weird, but he was also obsessed with serial killers so...” Adam continued. The weight of his head resting on Taylor’s shoulder was assuring. It reminded him that even if kissing Adam wasn't worth it, Adam as his friend still was. He didn't want to lose him in that way.

_Friend._

Adam was Taylor’s friend. It sounded right. It just felt weird, Taylor hasn't had a real friendship with anyone in years- but they had one. All he really needed from Adam was companionship. It took all of _this_ for him to realize that.

“Adam,” Taylor starts. It comes out too deliberately because Adam picks his head up with raised eyebrows, alert and ready. “Beau is Schizophrenic.”

Taylor couldn't blame him when the look of genuine shock flashed over his face. “Holy shit, seriously? I...I'm sorry to hear that.”

“He was diagnosed with chronic Schizophrenia when he was eighteen. It’s- he's harmless though.” Taylor rushed out in one breath. He didn't know his heart would beat so fast talking about this. Besides his parents, Adam is the only person that he's has to tell. “That's why I didn't bring him tonight, he doesn't like being around people. He gets nervous.”

Adam’s mouth was hanging open and he looked off to the side, letting it sink in. “Wow. That explains a lot. I mean I wasn't going to say anything and no offense, but...I could tell something was...does he like hear voices and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Taylor mindfully smiles because he thinks about how Beau's auditory hallucinations used to bother him, and how he's now able to accept it for what it is. Beau can't help it. “He sometimes even talks back to them. It used to really upset me but the thing is, Beau isn't crazy like how people think Schizophrenics are. I mean some are, but all he really wants is to draw and for me to stay home with him all day because he hates being alone. Sometimes he has bad days but who doesn't? We all have bad days.” Taylor shrugs.

Adam nods understandably, and Taylor says, “He's going to struggle with this for the rest of his life. Not a day goes by where I don't think about that...and it kills me. I love him so much, some days I wake up and it's like I forget, y’know? But then he says something fucking weird or tries to shower with his shoes on and it's just-” Taylor feels his lip quiver so he has to take another breathe. Crying about it has never solved anything in the past, and it won't solve anything now. “It's so fucking hard to deal with him and him refusing medication makes it's even more frustrating because I know that it's only going to help him. He just doesn't want the help…but I can't force him- I won't because-”

His mouth is open, but nothing further comes out. Talking about your feelings is supposed to make you feel better, relieved. On some level, Taylor does but the more he talks, the deeper it gets and he hates feeling like it's not going to stop now that it's out.

“It's okay,” Adam whispers, and he holds Taylor’s hand with a tight grip. “I'm glad you're telling me this because it sounds like you’ve been holding it in. Taylor, look at me.” He instructs, trying to get Taylor to meet his gaze.

When Taylor does as he's told, Adam looks somber and serious. It feels nice to know Adam still cares. “It's not healthy to bottle shit up, and it only gets worse when you do. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I'm going to say that you can talk to me about anything, and I won't judge. I promise but I really think you should think about talking to someone.”

“Adam, do you care about me?” Taylor asks because he just needs to hear it at this point. He feels like he unraveled tonight in a way he's never before already so there's no shame in asking.

Adam frowns, and his grip tightens. “Of course I do. I wouldn't be here right now, if I didn't. _We_ wouldn't be here, trust me.”

Taylor smiles and turns his head so he doesn't have to deal with the worried look in Adam’s brown eyes and for once, he's not comparing them to the blue ones he knows so well.

“You sound like you would do just about anything for him, he’s really lucky to have that. I know you must treat him well, just please do us all a favor and don't try to kiss anyone else. Doesn't sound like Beau deserves that from you.” Adam says.

Suddenly, Taylor had this fondness for Adam that wasn't there before. The thought of Adam wasn't clouded with longing and lust anymore, just a simple soft spot for someone that understood him a little better now.

Taylor patted his arm because even though he already knew that, Adam was right.

\---

Adam ends up calling him a taxi because he was still too drunk to drive and gives him some money to cover it. That was nice of him.

Once Taylor gets home, he turns the TV off. It takes him a few seconds because he can hardly see anything in the dark but he does notice Beth asleep on the couch and Beau’s absence. It worries him at first, but when he pushes the bedroom door open, Beau’s just laying there with the lights on and covers pulled up high. He had been waiting for Taylor.

It smelled like smoke in their room. Beau wasn't supposed to be smoking inside the house, but the ashtray sat there in plain view right on the edge of their dresser. Beau didn't even bother to hide it. Taylor decided not to say anything.

“Hi, baby. Are you okay?”

Beau sat up, the sheets falling off of him. He was wearing one of Taylor’s shirts and his collarbone stuck out. It made his heart clench painfully. “I'm fine. I was just waiting for you to come home.” he says with a hushed tone, like he was afraid he would wake Beth up, even though she was in another room. “I missed you.”

Taylor stripped down to his briefs before climbing into bed next to him. He cupped Beau’s cheek, running his thumb over the ridge of his nose “I missed you too, sweetheart. Sorry I was gone for so long.”

“I finished the movie by myself. Beth fell asleep so I had to stay up and watch it two more times so the TV wouldn't explode...then I was just waiting.” Beau repeated. He covered Taylor’s hand that was on his cheek with his own. Beau was warm all over contrary to Taylor’s freezing hands.

“I'm here now. I swear I will never be gone for that long ever again and if I am, I promise I will always come back. You know that.” Taylor breathed, now holding Beau’s face with both of his hands.

Beau nodded and darted his eyes around the bed because he wasn't sure how to respond to Taylor staring at him like this. He wasn't going to stop though, he needed keep looking.

Taylor kisses him once, slowly. “You're so beautiful,” he continues to whisper, kissing him again, only stopping to suck in a breath. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Taylor fit his lips against the ridge of his jaw, mouthing at the skin there. He trailed down his neck, sucking open mouthed kisses and skidding a hand down to rub at the inside of his thigh.

Beau lets him, he always lets him.

He puts all his weight on Beau, forcing him to lie back and that's when he resisted a bit. “Taylor…”

“It's alright, Beau. Just let me, I'm gonna make you feel so good, I just want to do this for you.” he assured, trailing his hands up Beau’s shirt to feel the even warmer skin there. Taylor pushed it up so he could run his hands over his smooth chest and press wet kisses down to his waistband of his sweatpants.

Beau’s stomach hollowed when Taylor licked over his rosy pink nipples and bit at his collarbones. Taylor felt foggy with arousal, as he continued to feel Beau up and he reached down to grope the front of Beau’s sweats, coaxing him.

“Taylor,” Beau repeated. He kicked one of his legs out, twisting away and Taylor thought he was just being squeamish so he didn't let up.

Beau made a strangled noise when Taylor hooked his fingers over his sweats, about to shove them down.

“Taylor, stop!” Beau pinched him on his back _hard_ and his head snapped up to glare at him. Beau was glaring back. “I told you to stop. Why don't you ever listen to me?”

Taylor hastily got up and sat back on his knees. It felt like someone had just threw a bucket of ice on him. He felt rejected. He didn't want Beau to even look at him right now. “What? What's your fucking deal now?”

Beau shrugged like it was nothing and he rubbed his eyes. “I just don't want to. I don't feel like it.”

Although the anger has simmered down, Taylor was still drunk and humiliated from this entire night. “Since when do you turn down a blowjob? Oh what are you mad at me because I came home so late or are the fairies on the ceiling distracting you that much.” he spat out.

Although, he would never actually force anything on Beau, he probably could and get away with it. Beau wouldn't do anything.

“Um...I'm sorry it's just…’cause you smell like alcohol and you're being really rough.” Beau says. He pushes his shirt back down and sits up so he can pull his legs up to his chest. When Taylor didn't say anything, he repeats, “I'm sorry, are you mad at me? Please don't be mad at me, Taylor.”

“You're not supposed to smoke in the house.”

“I...I've never- I don't. How come you-” Beau knocked his head against his knees so that his face was covered.

Taylor pointed to the ashtray sitting not too far from them.“Why are you lying? It's obvious you smoked in here.”

Beau’s voice was muffled. “Taylor please...I'm sorry. I can't…”

“I don't like it when you lie to me, Beau.” Taylor left the room to go brush his teeth. He knew he was being a dick. He didn't like it and Beau didn't know why he was being like this, which made Taylor’s heart so heavy with remorse and unpleasant emotion but he the way he was so raw inside, he didn't think he could stop.

He wasn't supposed to feel this vulnerable. So open and unsafe that anyone- even Beau could make him feel so discarded.

It was also still blurry whether or not he was still that upset about Adam or because Beau had told him to stop when all he was trying to do was show that he loved him.

Beau's only been around happy drunk Taylor, not angry and broken drunk Taylor. He was used to Taylor holding onto some of that self control when drinking, but Taylor couldn't always do that. It scared him sometimes just how much trust Beau puts in him. He shouldn't because Taylor was only human, he makes mistakes all the time.

Taylor brushed his teeth harshly. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were droopy, tired looking and his bottom lip was chapped visibly. His skin looked oily and too yellow under this light. He thought he already made the decision not to tell Beau about the kiss.

The thing was that Beau deserved to know Taylor had fucked up, that Taylor gotten selfish and wanted a taste of a different life that he could be living without him. He deserved to know that a small but very alive part of Taylor had been craving for a happiness that turns out was falsely promising.

And Taylor has only thought things like _Beau deserves better than you_ and _You will never make him happy_ a few times in his life, at the most stressful and darkest point of their relationship- the beginning of learning how to get a grip on Schizophrenia. He thinks those thoughts again and decides it true. He's been lusting after another guy for months now and kissed him tonight, after all.

He feels so alone standing in the bathroom. It smells nauseatingly like cleaning product.

Taylor goes back to the room and decides not to say another word to Beau, because if he does, he's going to hate himself even more in the morning. He needs to sleep for a few hours and for Beth not to be here when he tells Beau everything about Adam.

He doesn't want to and he's not sure how Beau will react but Taylor knows he needs to do it.

Taylor cries when Beau falls asleep, curled away from him because he's _tried and tried_ but Beau deserves someone who is nicer to him and someone who can give him the world.

Taylor doesn't think he can do that anymore.

\---

The clock on his phone reads _5:34_ and there is one unread text from last night- his mom wishing him a happy new year. The first thing Taylor does is check to see if Beau is awake. He's not, still snoring softly in same fetal position he fell asleep in. Taylor kisses his forehead and swallows the lump in his throat because of what he has to do today.

It's unfair for Taylor to have ever thought about what would happen to Beau if he left because he just realizes that he's not sure what would happen to _him_ if Beau was the one leaving.

Sometimes he’s like everyone else and doesn't realize that Beau is still his own person who is capable of making his own decisions. He could just as easily make the decision to leave himself.

Taylor thinks about that and gets out of bed. Beth is gone, with a _‘Happy New Year!’_ note on the kitchen table. He pours himself a glass of cold orange juice because it's Beau’s favorite and right now, he needs to be surrounded with it.

The first sip of juice slides down his throat with ease and it tastes so sugary that it makes him feel sick. Beau always liked sweet tasting things, Taylor didn't.

He sits there, only clad in his underwear and stares at the Christmas tree like Beau did on Christmas Eve morning.

It's dead silent in the house, and it's also unfair for Taylor to have thought Schizophrenia ruined his life because the only person who can think that is Beau himself. It _completely_ ruined his life and he tried to kill himself once because of it. Thank god, it was only once when he was eighteen.

Taylor had been devastated when he got the news, then there was the diagnosis and that's when his own depression started. Well, he supposes it's depression. Normal people weren't supposed to feel like this for so long. Not that he was exactly a _normal person_ under _normal life_ circumstances. Beau has depressive episodes so he knows what it looks like, but it's different when you see it versus when it’s actually happening in your own mind.

He's about halfway through the glass of juice when Beau pads out, still wearing Taylor’s shirt.

Beau doesn't say anything when he sees the orange juice but he touches Taylor’s arm as if he were asking _Are you still mad at me_ , to which no. Taylor can never be mad at him. He tells him that.

“Okay.” Beau says. He sits down across from Taylor and reaches for the glass. “It's mine.”

“I know, sorry.” Taylor apologizes and pushes it over to him. He's not going to explain why he was drinking it but Beau doesn't care to hear. That hurts to remember.

He waits until Beau finishes it off and pours another cup. Beau sits back down and stares at him. Taylor thinks Beau is upset with him for the way he acted last night still. It's fine, it's just that Beau doesn't usually wallow like he does.

“I need to tell you something serious.” Taylor says.

There’s already tears forming in Beau’s eyes for some reason. He hasn't said anything yet but he thinks Beau is picking up on his misery and that makes him sad.

“I decided to kiss someone last night. Someone who I thought I...it didn't mean anything.” he finishes lamely.

Beau’s eyes are ocean blue and bright. There's a flicker of hostility that he doesn't see often. “You...you had s-sex wi-”

“No, no I didn't sleep with anyone. I just kissed someone on the lips and they kissed back for a second. I didn't- I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with not wanting you anymore because I do, I love you so much. It was...I got selfish and wanted more.”

Beau wasn't looking at him but down at his lap, where his hands were now folded. Taylor leaned forward, putting his elbows on top of the table. “I know my apologies probably don't mean much right now and I regret everything I've done that led me up to making that decision, you have to know that I am _so sorry_ Beau. You will always be the most important thing in my life and I would do anything for you.”

It was quiet again, like how it was this morning when he first got up. Beau picked his head up but angled his body away so he facing the wall. He says, “If you hate me so much, then I hate you. That hurts me Taylor, I d-don't understand why you want to hurt me. Why do you-”

“Beau, listen to me.” Taylor interrupted and stood up to move closer. He grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him. “I _don't_ want to be with anyone else and I never want to hurt you. I promise.”

“Shut up! I hate you.” Beau glowered, furrowing his eyebrows together tightly and he wiggled out of Taylor’s hold. “Fuck you. Fuck you, that's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Go fuck yourself.” He slapped his hand against the table and glared at the glass of juice for a second before pushing it over.

Then Beau got up and grabbed a carton of cigarettes on the counter, angrily lighting one up. “I can smoke in the fucking house or in your car whenever I want. Fuck you.”

Something inside of Taylor snapped and it felt like it carried over from last night. However this was _more_ . Fury frothed up inside of his chest and Taylor couldn't stop himself before he lashed out. “How dare you. Why do you think I did it, huh? You caused this, it's _your_ fault. I do _everything_ for you! I've stood by your side for eight years- eight long fucking years and I make one fucking mistake- _one._ Now all of a sudden you're telling me to go fuck myself?”

Taylor wanted his words to hurt. He wanted Beau to flinch at the harshness of his voice. He needed some kind of reaction out of Beau, he needed _something_ that wasn't just an empty scowl or Beau covering his face. He _wanted_ to be yelled at.

“Fuck you.” Beau repeated. He took a step back and leaned against the counter. The cigarette was burning quickly and Beau’s mouth was twisted into deep frown.

He was mad. Taylor knew that. Beau didn't know how to handle it. Taylor knew he didn't.

He knew that Beau didn't like confrontation or serious situations, didn't like Taylor being upset with him or when anyone raised their voice. He just couldn't handle it.

 _Eight years. Jesus Christ._ Taylor felt it in his bones, aching and longing for- he doesn't even know what. Just for _something._ Of course kissing Adam wasn't about Beau, his illness or about the last eight years at all. It was about Taylor, and how emotionally neglected he's felt for a long time.

“I can't remember the last time you looked at me.”

 

There was something about the way that sentence came out of his mouth. Like it had been swallowed down too many times, suppressed and frightened and it just slipped out. Not sure if it was accidental or not. What was once just a thought, now had meaning to be said. _Released._

 

“I-I'm looking...at you...right now.”

 

Taylor shook his head, “No.” It took him two big strides to reach Beau and he grabbed onto his shoulders, shaking him. The cigarette fell out of Beau’s fingers and onto the floor and Taylor couldn't even care to feel bad for the pinch of fear that flashed on Beau’s face. “ _Look, at me.”_

 

He wanted to scream it in his face, though it wouldn't help because Beau wasn't going to understand what Taylor wanted. “You can't even do that, you can't….you're incapable of it.” He repeats, over and over until his mouth hurt from talking so much.

 

Taylor wanted to shove him until he stumbled back and hit the wall because he was _tired_ and seething with such anger and the unhappiness seemed to be deeply rooted in his veins now, flowing so openly in his blood that he if he bit his lip hard enough, he would be able to taste it. He wanted to cry because _what about him_ and _what about what he wants or how he feels_ and no matter how much he cried and sobbed, Beau wouldn't understand where he was coming from.

 

Beau could hold Taylor. He could plead that everything was fine. He could frantically try to figure out what he did to make Taylor mad, and try to focus long enough to rub circles in his back as Taylor did for him countless times. He could try to make it better but it wouldn't be enough.

 

He could say the three words that Taylor loves so much to listen to but doesn't hear them nearly as much as he should because Beau just _can't_ most of the time.

 

Where the line between _I've had enough_ and _I love you_ draws, he will never know and he didn't even realize all of this had come out of his mouth because he was so focused on the outburst of all the emotion he was experiencing. 

 

Blinking away the sudden tears that had gathered in his eyes, Taylor let go of him. His hands were shaking. The veins in his forearms were now sticking out, creating mountain peaks over the delicate stretch of his skin and his heated cheeks were now damp, wet trails of tears sliding down then and waiting to fall.

 

If someone were to see them right now, they would assume Taylor was the crazy one. He sure as fuck felt like it.

 

Beau was still staring at him, in that distracted Beau way. He dropped himself onto the floor and pulled his shirt over his face. “ _Get out._ Get out!”

 

Taylor wasn't completely tuned in to where his legs were carrying him, but all he knew it was somewhere that Beau wasn't.

 

\---

 

They didn't talk the next day. Or the day after that.

 

Perhaps they needed that. Time to be apart, after all they were around each other constantly. Taylor used to get irritated with how clingy Beau could get. But now that Beau hasn't spoken to him in two days, he isn't sure how it ever used to get on his nerves.

 

Beau had locked himself in the bedroom, only opening the door three times to poke his head out, like he was checking to make sure Taylor was still right where he’d left him on the tiny couch they inherited from his parents.

 

Taylor wasn't going anywhere, didn't want to and he wished he could make Beau understand that.

 

\---

 

Taylor gets himself into therapy. He quickly realizes that it's something he should have done a long time ago.

 

He tells his therapist everything. By everything, he means how much it feels like he's slowly slipping away from his own reality.

 

The thing he talks about the most is Beau. His therapist has to redirect him back to talking about himself and how he feels. “ _Are you living your life for him or for you?”_ is what she asks him. When you’ve spent most of your life, constantly putting someone else’s needs, wants and happiness before your own, it becomes easy. Easy, like holding a pencil in your hand or brushing your teeth. Easier than breathing.

 

A part of him doesn't want it to be anything less than.

 

Taylor tells her that. She doesn't say anything.

 

And on the first day, he walks away with this:

 

_“No one can carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. You certainly cannot carry the weight of him on your shoulders.”_

 

It took a second for it to sink in, for him to piece together what it could or did mean.

 

\---

 

When Beau comes back around, he asks, “Are you mad?”

 

Taylor was waiting for the ‘at me’ but it never came. _Are you mad_ felt too general, he could be mad at anything in the world and he could say _yes_ because Beau wasn't asking if he was mad at _him_ but just- _are you mad._

 

He didn't know how to answer that.

 

_\---_

 

For the first time since he was eighteen, Beau goes back on antipsychotics. It was his own decision. Taylor thinks they both quickly realize it was something that should have happened a long time ago.

 

Beau changes with the meds. Beau is happier, Taylor can tell. He develops restless leg syndrome, which is about the only negative side effect, but that doesn't bother either of them. They’re already used to Beau twitching constantly, and he’s actually only a tad bit more shakey than he used to be.

 

He doesn't have that far off look in his eye as much and shows more emotion, which means Beau starts smiling more. That's Taylor’s favorite part.

 

His speech slows down, and he doesn't talk as fast and incoherently as he used to. He begins to focus long enough to do simple tasks like read a few paragraphs and write his name or pick out weather appropriate clothes. Once in awhile, he’ll help Taylor wash the dishes or fold laundry. Beau goes to the store with him more often, still uses the gloves but that's okay. Gloves were never hurting anyone. Beau has also let go of his fear of sleeping with the lights off now, they have about three night lights plugged in so it's not totally pitch black at night. Taylor also sleeps better because of that.

 

Beau changes physically. He starts caring enough to shave by himself, cuts down on smoking. That puts the color back in his cheeks. He gains a few pounds and fills out nicely, which Beau’s insecure about but it makes him look overall so much healthier than he used to. Taylor makes sure to tell him how handsome he is every single morning.

 

Beau still needs Taylor- he’ll never _not_ need him.

 

He still needs Taylor to help make decisions for him, still needs Taylor to force him outside more than once a week, still needs for him to be in the bathroom when he showers but that's a habit neither of them really want to break.

 

He's almost somewhat normal and it scares them both.

 

The antipsychotics help a lot with the voices. Beau still didn't like to hear music, he valued the silence. To him, singing was just more noise he didn't want to hear.

 

In order to be put on medication again, Beau starts psychotherapy by the order of his doctor. He sees a Psychiatrist and a Psychologist three times a week. At first psychotherapy session, he asks if he can have Taylor there- just to feel safe. After all he didn't know these people. They tell him Taylor can sit in the room but cannot say anything, or be asked anything.

 

Of course, Taylor obliges and not even twenty minutes in, he wishes he hadn't been there to watch. Beau starts crying immediately, _sobbing_. When he calms down enough to blow his nose, and wipe his eyes, the psychiatrist began.

 

“Beau, how are you feeling today?”

 

It took Beau a few minutes to answer, “Fine.”

 

“Do you have Schizophrenia?”

 

“...I guess I do. It's- Schizophrenia is a _horrible_ disease to live with, it’s horrible and it's such a hard illness to live with. I just hope I don't have it, I don't know maybe if I start taking the meds again, I...I hate feeling this. I'm not sick or anything. It's- it's just a chemical imbalance, see and I don't ha- I hope to god I don't have it. It's a horrible disease to live with. I might have it but...I...sorry what was the question again?”

 

She writes something down, “Do you think you have a chemical imbalance?”

 

He scoffs, “That's the stupidest question I've ever heard. I can't sit here and be asked stupid questions like that. If you think...if you think I'm crazy then you don't have to ask me stupid questions.”

 

“Would you be willing to go on medication to get better?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Have you been on medication before?”

 

“Lady, if I said I had Schizophrenia and it would make me normal, there's a lot I can do. I don't have to lose my life for it…all I do is sit around and smoke cigarettes. That's...um...all I do is sit and smoke cigarettes, I smoke so many cigarettes. It's all I do.”

 

Taylor wanted to answer the questions for him, but had to refrain from doing so because he needed to remember Beau was his own person. This evaluation would determine what he would be put on and the correct dosage to help him get better.

 

They learn medication takes time. It works, but it happens gradually and slowly.

 

One morning Taylor woke up to Beau sitting on the floor and when he asked him what he was doing, Beau replied, “I feel different.” then he burst into tears.

 

Beau didn't look like he was crying because due to being genuinely upset, he looked overwhelmed. He probably didn't know how to feel about not waking up with a certain fog that didn't quite go away as the day carried on.

 

Once he calmed down enough to talk, he told Taylor it was because for the first time since he was a teenager, he could actually think for himself. He woke up to nothing in his head and thought something was actually _wrong_ with him.

 

Taylor didn't stop the smile that came over him because it was only going to get so much better, for both of them.

 

He tells him that, because it's true.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this!


End file.
